For a second, Amy caught something in her mother’s expression—a flash of understanding, far-off eyes and a yanked-down mouth—that told her Mom had felt it, too. But then Mom masked it with reasonable concern, the way grown-ups always did when they didn’t want to admit something.

“Honey,” said Mom, “I know you were really freaked out by what happened at the science fair, and I’m sure you feel like your work with Rover was ruined. But you can’t take it out on the dog. It wasn’t his fault, just like it wasn’t yours.”

Amy sighed. “I know that, Mom.”

“And I’m sure it’s a little difficult,” said Mom, with a hint of a sad smile, “for us to have a dog who feels a lot like Katie’s dog, and who prefers spending time with Katie to the rest of us—”

“It’s not that!” said Amy, throwing up her hands and letting them fall to her sides. She knew she was coming off as whiny, but she couldn’t help it. It bothered her to have Mom treat her like she was just too young to know what she meant.

“So why do you want Rover gone?” asked Mom.

Amy’s mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. What could she say? That she somehow knew Rover had caused the accident at the science fair? That he’d terrified and manipulated those rats so he wouldn’t have to perform in front of everyone, that whatever power he’d used to take that picture on the iPad was what he’d used to whip those rats into a frenzy?

Even Amy knew how far-fetched that sounded.

Worse was the full truth she felt deep in her guts: that Rover had something horrible inside him. That he lacked the warmth of a real dog. That maybe Rover was something else, something twisted and hateful that only looked like a dog.

She chewed her lower lip in thought. Maybe she had to go simpler than that. Mom had obviously sensed something similar about Rover—maybe Amy needed to somehow connect with that.

“I just feel weird around him,” she confessed. “He’s so quiet, and he stares at me sometimes … and he freaks out all of our other animals. Stormy is afraid of him, and Coop and Hutch hate him.”

“Cats have hated dogs for some time now,” Mom pointed out gently.

“What about Stormy, then?” Amy leaned down and petted the labradoodle’s ear. “It isn’t alpha dominance—we can’t even walk them together. There’s just something about Rover that bothers us, and that’s why I think we should give him to a new home. Someone who has fewer animals already.”

Mom tilted her head slightly. After a moment, she said, “You do realize this will break your sister’s heart.”