Miss Madison sighs. “I don’t know for sure. I suspect she ran out of her medications early on in the trip and just, well . . .” She shrugs.

“Lost her way,” I say, remembering Ree’s words.

Miss Madison nods. “She’s very eager, though, to talk to Jewel. We’ll do that a little later today when Jewel is a bit less confused.”

Mama smiles. “That should do Jewel a world of good.” She gives me a little hug. “Things are falling into place for Jewel, and it’s all because of you, Piper.”

Everybody—Mama, Miss Madison, Dr. Wells, even Nurse Dillard—smiles at me, nodding.

But I’m having a hard time pulling out a smile.

I’m thinking about Baby.

On the elevator ride down, I say, “We’ve only solved one half of the problem, Mama. We have to go over to the animal shelter and explain about Jewel and the hospital and Jewel’s sister. Maybe if we explain it just right, they won’t adopt Baby to someone else.”

“Let’s wait and see what Jewel’s social worker finds out about her sister. We’ll know more after that.”

“But, Mama,” I say, “that could take a long time, and Baby doesn’t have a long time.”

Mama sighs and pinches the bridge of her perfect nose. The elevator dings; the door slides open.

“Okay,” she says, “after school tomorrow, we’ll go over to the animal shelter.”

I bounce on my tiptoes and clap my hands.

“But,” she says, skewering me with a no-arguments look, “Dylan has to come too.”

I smile up at Mama. “That’s okay.” There’s no way I’m pushing my luck.

I take her hand and squeeze it three times.

She smiles back down at me as we walk into the sunlit lobby. She squeezes back twice for “how much?”

Ree, Fire, and Mrs. Bailey rush toward us, their questions tumbling over each other.

I squeeze Mama’s hand in reply hard enough that she’ll feel it and know how much, for the rest of our lives.

41

The Scent of Hope

In this place where day after day everything

is the same,

something is changing.

After food, after Outside time,

Baby is brought to a different kennel

with different smells and different light.

Here

the kennel has the sweet, milky smell

of puppies

and a female dog full of worry.

Here

the door to the lobby swings open

right by his kennel

bringing the sound of voices

and the smell of Outside.

The smell of hope.

Of going away.

All day people come and go,

looking, coaxing, whistling, calling.

Dogs are carried away in arms,

or on the end of leashes,

tails wagging,

full of hope

to new homes.

Many more dogs leave here

than in the kennel at the end

of the dark hallway.

Here the light is bright every time

the door opens.

By the end of the day