“Sorry, boy. Not for another hour.”

She turned back to her tablet and tried to focus her mind on the problem at hand. She wasn’t great with chemistry experiments, but maybe something that fizzed? Judges always liked fizzing—

Her screen went blank.

Amy threw up her hands—she’d just charged this thing. Great, and her charger was down in the kitchen. Groaning all the way, she got up and walked out into the hall, barely conscious that Rover was following her.

As she passed her dad’s office, he called out, “Amy, did the power just go out or something?”

Amy glanced downstairs. A lamp in the foyer was on. She leaned into the office and saw Dad glaring at his two-monitor desktop surrounded by printouts and old coffee cups. “Nope. Why?”

“Ah, my computer shut off for no reason,” he said. “Thank God your mom had me create that automatic backup system, or I’d have just lost a ton of work.”

“Huh,” said Amy. “My tablet actually just went off, too.” But Dad was already restarting his computer and didn’t seem to hear her. She walked down through the drowsy Saturday afternoon house, past Katie drawing at the dining room table.

“Rover wants to eat,” Katie said without looking up from a doodle of a flower.

“Has he been bothering you, too?” asked Amy. “He just came into my room and scared the pants off of Coop and Hutch.”

“No,” said Katie. Then she added softly, “That’s why he turned off your screens. He’s hungry.”

Amy paused and frowned. “Dogs can’t do that, Katie.”

“Yeah, well, Rover can’t scare the pants off Coop and Hutch,” said Katie. “They don’t wear pants.”

“Whatever,” said Amy. She turned into the kitchen and froze.

Rover was waiting for her, sitting by the cupboard where they kept the dog food. He looked up at Amy expectantly.

How had he gotten past her?

“Not for another hour, Rover,” she said, a little louder and angrier than she meant to be. She went to her charging cable at the outlet over the sink, grabbed the end, and plugged in her tablet. Her screen lit up … and showed 98 percent power? That couldn’t be right. She unplugged it and walked back into the living room—where her screen went blank again. She pressed the home button but got nothing. She headed back into the kitchen, feeling like a moron—and her screen lit back up.

For a moment, Amy was dumbstruck … and then, slowly, her eyes drifted over to Rover. The dog sat there with his irritating calm, glancing from her to the cupboard and back again.

That’s why he turned off your screens.

Amy felt her mouth go dry. That was … it couldn’t be.

She took a step backward, out of the kitchen. Her iPad screen went blank.

She stepped forward onto the cool tile floor. Her screen lit up.