“This!” Jerome hands me an envelope filled with money and two brownie order forms.

My jaw drops. “That looks like a lot of money.” I gasp.

“My track team loves Firefly Gourmet Brownies, especially Coach Sloan,” he explains. “Can’t get enough of those Mocha Mint and Choco-Lots.”

Noah hands me another envelope. “It’s not as much,” he says shyly, “but every little bit counts.”

“It surely does,” I say. I hold both envelopes to my heart. “Y’all are the best.”

Walking down the hall to my class, I notice more kids are smiling at me. One boy even calls me Brownie Girl. Is it the magic power of brownies and story, or am I finally seeing the whole doughnut?

All day at school, kids and teachers turned in money and order forms to Vice Principal Meeks. As soon as the end-of-school bell buzzed, Karina and I raced down to the office to pick them up.

“Hope you brought a wheelbarrow,” Mr. Meeks says with a grin.

“No kidding,” Karina says, staring at the box full of cash and forms.

Me, I can’t say a word. It seems too good to be true.

Usually, me, Daria, Karina, and Fire walk home from school, but today, we ride the bus. No dawdling today: we’ve got money to count.

I’m still tongue-tied with excitement and worry when we get to Karina’s family’s room.

We hold our breath as Mrs. Bailey opens the box.

“My goodness,” she says. She pushes the box toward us. “Well, girls, get counting.”

“It’s got to be a million dollars at least,” Fire says.

“Actually, it’s got to be at least one hundred and seventy-four dollars,” Karina reminds us.

Fire and I separate the bills into stacks of ones, fives, tens, and twenties. I can’t believe how many twenties there are.

Then Fire and I count it out.

“Holy cow,” Fire says.

Daria counts it again, then writes the total on a piece of paper: $246.

I nearly jump all the way up to the ceiling. “We did it! We did it and then some!”

“Piper, honey, don’t forget we only get to keep forty percent of that,” Mrs. B says.

Daria groans.

Karina does the math. “We get to keep ninety-eight dollars.”

My heart crashes to the floor.

But then I remember: there’s the money Mama’s collected from Ree and Rick at the Sixth Street Community Kitchen and the rest of the brownie money.

I call Mama. It only takes two blinks of an eye for her and Dylan to come down with the other money.

Before Mrs. B starts counting again, I say, “Wait.” I take my Band-Aid box out of my pack and pull out my allowance. “Add this in too.”