Amy took a step back. The woman had practically yelled. Dad’s mouth hung open for a moment.

“I mean, my daughter started calling him Rover,” said Dad. “But that’s just something she made up—”

A click. The screen flashed CALL ENDED. Dad sat back, looking puzzled … and then finally noticed Amy out of the corner of his eye. The two of them shared a confused expression.

“Super weird, right?” said Dad with a little laugh.

Amy nodded, trying to smile back at him, to make it a strange moment and not a scary one. But something about it made her uncomfortable. The woman’s voice had a tone she only heard in grown-ups when there was a serious emergency, like when Mom had gotten bitten by a snake on their Phoenix trip four years ago. There was fear in her voice—real, genuine fear.

Dad must have sensed the vibe, too, because he fished in his pocket and pulled out a twenty. “Here’s some money,” he said. “Go get some ice cream for everyone.”

Amy took the money and headed back around the side of the building … but a tall shape blocked her path. It was the girl from the picnic table who’d given Amy that hard stare as they’d driven in. She was thin and rangy, maybe a year older than Amy, in cutoffs and a Supreme shirt. She folded her arms and stared down at Amy with a smile.

“Couldn’t help but overhear you got some ice-cream money,” said the girl softly.

Amy suddenly felt very small and helpless. She clenched her hand around Dad’s twenty dollars and turned around … but another girl blocked her path. She was shorter, but looked no less mean. Amy turned back to the tall girl, whose smile had grown into a grin.

“Doesn’t need to be a problem,” said the tall girl. “You just share the wealth and everything’s fine. Make a peep and I bust your nose. Simple as that.”

Amy’s throat tightened. She felt tears prickle the backs of her eyes, and cursed herself for almost crying like a baby. She wished she were tougher, one of the big solid kids on her school softball team who could shove a girl like this aside. But no, she was a science kid, a nerd at heart who’d never even thought about throwing a punch. So much for Mom’s Good and bad are constructs speech. Here, the best-case scenario was forking over her money and walking away crying like the weak little idiot she was—

Whuff.

All their heads turned. Rover sat on the asphalt to Amy’s left, eyeing the tall girl. For a second, Amy was scared the dog might bite them. But Rover didn’t growl or crouch low the way dogs do when they attack. He just stared calmly at the tall girl, and waited.