And as I walk back, I wonder why I told her that I had to get back to pretend parents when I have a perfectly good, real grammy who will clean my cuts and cover me with Band-Aids. I wish I hadn’t said it now.

• • •

Tressa and Brandy are on the swings when I get back with the dog.

Tressa runs over. When she drops to her knees to tell the dog how bad he is, she looks right into my bloody knees. When she stands, I expect a mean comment. The kind Olive would give Ruby when she has Band-Aids.

But she doesn’t say something mean. “Thank you. I mean, thanks, Delsie.”

I’m shocked. “You’re welcome.”

Then she holds out the ten-dollar bill. “Here. This is the money I got for walking the dog.”

“It’s okay. I don’t need that. But thanks anyway.”

She looks like Tressa again. “I’m not giving it to you to be nice. You got the dog back, so I’m giving you the money. I just don’t want to owe you anything.”

That makes sense. “Believe me. You don’t owe me anything,” I say as I turn to walk away. And I mean every word.

Chapter 40

THE FEELING OF BEING ROBBED

Ronan and I run up the drive into my little neighborhood; we slow to a jog and then a walk. I bend over and rest my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. And then I hear voices I don’t recognize. And I see blue and red lights flashing across the front of Olive’s house. “What’s going on?” I mumble.

I sprint down the drive and around the corner, with Ronan on my heels. There is a police car in front of our house. I feel like I’m going to throw up. Is something wrong with Grammy?

As we get closer, I hear Grammy’s voice. A bit of a wail and a cry wrapped around each other. And I am relieved she’s making noise. Then I’m afraid again.

“Who would do such a thing?” she asks the police officer. “Our most treasured possessions. I just don’t understand people.”

“Yes, ma’am. I am sorry for your losses. We will do our best to recover your things. We’ll check local pawnshops and the like. If you think of anything else, please let us know.”

“Oh, Delsie, baby. We’ve been robbed.”

“What?” I begin to think of the things that could be gone that we’ll miss. The television, for one. I don’t know how Grammy will get by without that.

“Grammy, what did they take? The TV?”

“No, no. They left that. Too hard to carry, I suppose. They took very dear things, though, like my Joseph’s pocket watch.”

“Oh no . . .” I say, my voice trailing off.

“And—I’m so sorry, Delsie—they took some of your mother’s things. Jewelry. Pins. Old coins. Lots of stuff that wouldn’t mean a hill of beans to other people but us.”