Maddie looked up. One of the day campers, a young girl with red hair, a shade darker than Danny’s, flopped across the table beside a desktop computer. She hid her face with a box of cereal—dinosaur-shaped cereal. A hint of a smile tugged at Maddie’s lips. She pocketed her phone and crossed the room.

“Dramatic much?” she said as she stood over the girl.

“Yes, in fact, I am.”

Maddie laughed, sat beside her, and moved the cereal box. “I’m Maddie.”

“And I’m done. D-u-n, done.”

Maddie had barely parted her lips when the girl held up her hand. “I know, I know. But I’m too exhausted for four letters.”

She slowly turned her head to Maddie. “But you can call me Sadie,” the girl finally said. She grinned and sat up straight. “Sassy Sadie, if you want. That’s my Pulse handle.”

She knew she’d heard right, but still Maddie had to ask, “You have a Pulse account?”

“D-u-h,” she spelled. “For three years.”

“How old are you?”

“Eleven.”

Eleven. “What’s an eleven-year-old need a Pulse account for?”

Sadie eyebrows shot up. “What doesn’t an eleven-year-old need a Pulse account for? I mean, do eleven-year-olds not wear clothing, drink cherry soda, and read amazing books about Gumberoo?”

Maddie shifted in her seat.

“Oh no, no, no. If you tell me you haven’t read the Gumberoo books, I’ll spit splinters right now.”

Sadie’s cheeks puffed and her eyes grew so wide that Maddie nodded, fearing the girl might otherwise spontaneously combust.

Maddie had not only read the series about the mythical, splinter-spitting, bear-like creatures—hairless save for their bushy eyebrows and the bristles on their chin—that had more weeks on the bestseller list than any middle-grade fantasy in history, she’d split the last apple tart with the author across the dinner table at her house.

The agency founded by Maddie’s dad, an MBA, and her mom, an attorney, owed its existence to Gumberoo. The author, Esmé Theot, was their first and still most profitable client. She was the reason Maddie lived in a single-family, Revolutionary War–era home in Cambridge and had attended top-notch private schools. But she was also the reason Maddie grew up without many friends.

Maddie’s tendency to disappear into her sketches started early. When she was younger, she’d ask to have “playdates” at the Harvard Art Museums. Her circle of friends had always been small. And honestly Maddie preferred it that way—one or two close friends were enough. But as each book in the Gumberoo series sold better than the last, sparking movie deals and a rabid fandom, the circle around Maddie widened.

Though unfamiliar, the invitations to birthday parties and movie nights and sleepovers gave Maddie the attention she was missing at home as her parents became as in demand as their famous author.