“Common sense,” Gloria yelled at me when she was finished. “Who’d bury something dead right up against the house? All we need now is that dumb dog getting sick. Or even worse, rolling in rot and stinking up the whole place. Do you think, with everything going on, I got time to clean?”

Chicken pulled at the rope and made a low growl in his throat like he was angry too. Or maybe he wanted to chew the bird down because he was starved. Maybe Gloria forgot to feed him.

Gloria turned around and stomped into the house. I went to look. I remembered how, when I asked to say something nice about the bird, Rowan said, “No one’s listening.” But just in case, I made some wishes. I pulled off some of Chicken’s fur still stuck to the cement and blew it into the air. Dog fur was just as good as anything to wish on.

ROWAN

When I open my eyes, I can see pinpricks of yellow up above. Moonlight through the leaves. I blink, and the yellow is gone.

Carl?

Carl, are you there?

Will you let me explain?

I put my hands on the ground. I can hear him. I know he’s there. Somewhere close to me. Shuffling around. Grumbling. He is fixing the neat border of stones around his firepit. I can hear Girl, too.

Carl? I know you’re afraid.

I’m not a worker.

I just want to go home.

But I can’t see. It’s too dark.

I try to sit up. Bright shocks of pain rocket through my head, spill into my chest, my legs.

Are you listening?

There’s a lady that can help you. Help us. She will, I promise. My neighbor.

She can make things better. Mrs. Spooner. She’s nice. Really nice. And she’s smart too.

Pain pushes me deeper and deeper.

Carl?

Are you listening?

She can fix everything.

You won’t be in trouble.

Girl is barking and barking. She won’t stop.

Please. Please be listening to me.

I try not to cry.

I just want to go home.

I reach out my hands, but I can’t wipe away the darkness. It covers me and I gulp it down.

MAISY

Gloria was so upset about Telly she was wandering all over the house. She kept going up and down the stairs. I heard them creaking. She was talking to herself, too. “What am I going to do? What am I going to do?”

I sat up in bed and called out, “Gloria?” I hated when she was sad.

She was there in a second. “I thought you were asleep,” she said.

“I woke up.”