“Well, it might have been fine if Josh had kept it quiet. But my brother is generous, and also an idiot: He photocopied the tests for all his friends. Using the school photocopier.”

I laugh, and Honey does too. “Anyway, Ima says that if the rebbe was too lazy to make a new test and has been giving the exact same one for the last ten years, you can’t get someone in trouble for studying off an old test.” I nod and think how lucky the Wines are. Whenever I complain that something is unfair at school, my mother usually takes the teacher’s side.

“Have you seen this one yet?” Honey says, sidling along the counter to open up a laptop. The laptop is brand-new—instead of each Wine kid getting a present for Chanukah, the laptop is a family gift and is to remain at the kitchen desk at all times. Although I like a lot of Mrs. Wine’s ideas about how to treat kids, I think of all the gifts I got for Chanukah that are just for me, and I feel a little bad for Honey. But she seems to be truly excited about the laptop and is pulling up the latest of a string of Jewish-themed parodies to popular radio songs.

She jumps down, grabs a broom, and starts singing along, using it as a microphone. She points her finger at me, curls it toward herself to call me over, and hands me the dustbin for a duet. We play the song through a gazillion times, laughing more hysterically each time we bump our hips together with our dance moves. Just as I am about to hit the arrow for play again, Honey’s eyes catch the full mug of hot chocolate cooling on the counter by the stove. She lets go of the broom.

“Where’s Aaron?”

The wooden broom handle thumps on the floor. I look toward the oval table. Aaron and his piles are gone.

Still holding my dustbin, I slide toward the dining room and peer in. I don’t hear anything. I crouch down under the dining room table: Some random Mr. Potato Head pieces and marbles litter the heavy carpet, but no Aaron.

“Aaron!” Honey calls. It’s quiet.

We go into the den, but it’s empty. The living room, laundry room, pantry, and bathroom are all empty too. Honey runs back to the front hall closet and starts swishing through the coats. She’s pushing them to the side harder and harder. She jumps up and grabs hold of the shelf above the rack, scanning. Aaron can climb anything.

My heart drops into my stomach.

Aaron could be anywhere in the Wines’ huge house. He’s not very tall, and he likes to squeeze himself into small spaces. The extra fridges and freezers in the basement all have locks on them so that he can’t crawl into one and accidentally get stuck inside. But there are a million nooks and crannies all over, in every room and every bathroom. And that is just inside.