Dad glanced at Mom and raised an eyebrow. He looked back at Amy and mouthed, Hide the iPad, then winked. She smiled and winked back.

Meanwhile, Katie couldn’t stop laughing and playing with Rover. The dog stood in the way-back and put his head over the backs of the girls’ seats, licking and nuzzling Katie. She kept giggling and pushing the dog away, but Amy could tell she wasn’t really trying that hard, and she would always let Rover win and give her an earful of nuzzles and licks.

“I’m going to look up some animal shelters in the area, see what I find,” said Dad. “You guys hang back and look after the dog.”

“Can we take Rover for a walk, Daddy?” asked Katie.

Dad sighed and shook his head. “I can’t believe you’ve already named him. This’ll end in tears. Yeah, sure, take him out for a breath of fresh air. I’ll see if we can get him a cup of water or something. Amy, you hanging back or you with me?”

“I’m with you,” she said. “I gotta use the bathroom anyway.”

They headed inside the gas station mini-mart, and Amy used the chemical-smelling, harshly lit restroom. When she came out, Dad was gone. She found him on a bench around the side of the building, hunched over his ringing phone. She felt a twinge of embarrassment—Dad preferred speakerphone, saying the phone got sweaty against his face, so he was always that guy having a loud conversation in public that everyone else could hear.

The phone clicked. “Robins County Animal Rescue,” chirped a voice. “This is Becca speaking. How can I help you?”

“Hi, my family and I found a stray dog,” said Dad. “It looks like he’s been pretty mistreated. We were wondering if we could bring him in.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” cooed the woman on the phone. “He might be better suited with a vet, though, as our medical facilities are limited. What are his injuries?”

“Not really injuries, exactly,” said Dad. “Someone taped his mouth shut and tied a blindfold over his eyes. We might have pulled a little hair out when we took the tape off. He was chained to a fence, but we cut through it to free him. We were worried he would starve out there on his own.”

Silence.

“Hello?” asked Dad.

“What’s the dog’s name?”

Amy felt the hair on her arms stand up. The woman’s voice had changed so quickly, it was as though a different person had picked up the phone. Instead of high-pitched, it was low and hoarse; instead of cheery, it was almost angry.

Dad noticed, too, sitting back and giving his phone a stink eye. “The dog didn’t have any tags or a collar. Listen, we don’t know who—”

“What is the dog’s name?”