The room fills up with excited voices.

Mrs. Bailey steps up to the podium beside me. “So what you’re suggesting, Piper, is we use our brownie money this year for a service project rather than, say, a movie or a pizza party?”

Or camp up in the mountains.

I swallow that particular dream down. “Yes, ma’am,” I say. “I am.”

Mrs. B nods. “Okay, ladies,” she says. “We’ll need to take a vote. All those in favor of using brownie money this year to help Jewel and Baby, raise your hands. And remember, we don’t get to keep all the money, just part of it.”

“Wait,” Carmen says, frowning. “We don’t even know what we’re voting on.”

“Sure we do,” Fire says. “We’re voting on raising money for Jewel and Baby.”

Desiree rolls her eyes. “We know that, Fire. But we don’t know how much money.”

I feel kind of sick to my stomach. This is the question I’ve been dreading.

“Well,” I say, “the one-way bus ticket is a hundred and thirty dollars.”

“That’s not bad,” Phoenix says. “We can raise that.”

I swallow. “We’d also like to get an official emotional support animal vest for Baby, and those cost about thirty dollars.”

The girls are quiet for a second. Then Angel says, “Okay, so one hundred and sixty dollars. We’ve done that before. I think.”

I look at Mama. I do not want to say the next thing.

“Jewel also needs to put down a three-hundred-dollar deposit on the room she’ll be living in at Heartwell Manor,” I explain.

The whole room gasps.

“Four hundred and sixty dollars?” Alexa’s eyes are as big as hubcaps. “Are you serious?”

“We’ll never sell that much.” Angel sighs. Heads nod in agreement.

Carmen crosses her arms over her chest. “I’d rather have a pizza party anyway.”

This is not going well. I see everything I thought we’d done for Jewel and Baby slipping away. But I have to try.

“Look,” I say, “I know it sounds like a lot of money—”

“It is a lot of money,” Desiree interrupts. “And we don’t even know this person. Why should we use our brownie money to help her?”

I feel my nostrils flare like Mama’s. “All of us have needed help,” I say, glaring at Desiree. “All of us know what it’s like to be hungry and scared, but at least we have a roof over our heads, a bed to sleep in, and family.”

Karina stands. “Do I need to remind everyone of the Firefly Pledge? Especially,” she says, looking hard at Carmen, Desiree, and Alexa, “the part where it says, ‘to demonstrate kindness, compassion, fairness, and strength.’”

The room goes silent. No one will look at me or Karina.