I skid to a stop. Snow is piled up against the concrete walls leading into the bathroom. The sidewalk is covered in thick snow. No paw prints. No footprints.

No Baby.

I feel sick all the way through.

Baby is gone. And so is the duffel bag.

27

Lost

Baby huddles in the sheltered doorway

of the library

watching thick curtains of snow

fall.

He followed the scent trail from the bus stop

where he and Ree had boarded the bus.

His nose had caught just enough scent on the bus ride

to create a map

from here to there.

Baby trusts his nose.

He’s always trusted his nose

to find what he needs.

All dogs do.

Then the snow came,

at first just flecks in the streetlights,

then harder and thicker.

The snow covered the sidewalks and the streets

and the smells that guided him.

Baby is lost without that compass of scent.

He shivers, not from the cold and wet but

from not knowing what to do.

He leaves the shelter of the library,

steps back onto the sidewalk, and looks back

the way he came.

Baby whimpers with questions.

Should he go back to the park,

to the bag of Jewel’s things,

the blue blanket,

to the girl who comes?

Should he keep searching for Jewel?

Snowflakes touch the end of his nose

like kisses.

He knows that soon

the sun will come up.

He knows soon

the storm will pass.

The birds say so.

Baby trusts birds (unlike squirrels).

He knows what he must do.

Baby settles in again

in the shelter of the library.

With a sigh, he rests his chin on his white paws

and waits.

28

Two Books and a Key

Daddy frowns at the yogurt cup in my hand. “This is what Baby drank out of, Daddy, I swear it is.” I call out Baby’s name again. Nothing.

“Maybe that woman, the one who owned him, came back and got him,” Daddy says. He rubs his red hands together and blows on them to warm them up. Even though the snow has stopped and the sun is coming out, it’s really cold.

I shake my head. “I don’t think so,” I say. I feel pretty sure Ree would have found a way to let me know.

Daddy looks back toward the street. “Well, we better get going, sugar. Your mama’s going to be wondering what’s taking us so long, and I got to go to work in a little while.”

I feel a huge knot getting tighter and tighter in my chest. What’s happened to Baby?

Just then, I hear someone call out, “Hey! Hey, Piper!” I shield my eyes against the sun on the snow with my hand. There, coming toward us, are Ree and Ajax. Her long legs eat up the distance between us in no time. She’s carrying something in her arms.

My heart lifts. It’s the duffel bag.