“I won’t let them send you away, Rover!” cried Katie. She looked up at Amy and scowled. “Amy’s just angry because she couldn’t come up with anything good for her stupid science fair project and wants to blame it on you.”

Hot fire rushed through Amy. That was it.

“Shut up!” she yelled. “Shut up, you little brat!”

“Enough,” Dad demanded, but Katie was already running out of the room crying. Mom stood and went after her with a groan, leaving Dad to shake his head and glower at Amy.

“What’s the matter with you, kiddo?” he said. He stood, wiped his mouth, and tossed his napkin on the table. “When you finish clearing the table, you can come upstairs and apologize to your sister. And you know what, why don’t you bond with Rover first by feeding him?”

Dad stormed out of the room, leaving Amy in silence. After a second, she stood and began picking up everyone’s plates from the table—

Whuff.

Amy stopped. Rover stared up at her expectantly, calm as ever. Amy glared back down at him, hoping he’d bark, whine, anything but just stare.

“I need to clear the table first,” she whispered, relishing having power over the dog. She walked into the kitchen with the plates and headed toward the sink.

The door of the dog food cupboard opened slowly—then slammed shut with a bang.

Amy jumped, and felt her heart beating fast. Had she really just seen th—

BOOM—the cupboards, the fridge, and the kitchen window flew open and slammed shut at once. Amy shrieked and dropped one of the plates. Pieces of china scattered across the floor.

“What was that?” called Dad’s voice from upstairs.

Amy looked back over her shoulder.

Rover sat in front of his bowl. Staring. Waiting.

“Nothing,” she called back, and went to get the dog food.

Chapter 11: A Break

“Amy?”

Amy inhaled sharply and blinked hard. Her eyes focused on Ms. Sarkopolo, the head of the upper school. She stared at Amy from across her cluttered, paper-pile-strewn desk with big, concerned eyes buried deep in her wrinkled face.

“Sorry?” asked Amy.

“I asked how things are going at home.”

“Oh.” Amy blinked a few times. “They’re fine.”

“They are?” Ms. Sarkopolo steepled her hands in front of her. It was Amy’s first time in the woman’s office—she was normally a model pupil—and she’d heard about how Ms. Sarkopolo interrogated her students like she was about to fire them. If she weren’t so exhausted, Amy thought, she might be intimidated.

Ms. Sarkopolo continued: “Two of your teachers have expressed concern about your work. Mr. Nowak said you just stared at your paper without taking any notes the entirety of English class. And both he and Mr. Heindecker said your homework wasn’t entirely finished.”