It seems like it takes Mrs. B forever and ever to do a final count. I feel apprehension—a new word we learned today—growing inside me. Will it be enough? And if it’s not, what do we do?

I almost bust with that apprehension when she recounts the money two more times!

“Oh, come on,” Fire moans.

Finally, Mrs. Bailey writes something on a piece of paper. She shows it to Mama and sighs.

“Well, girls,” Mrs. B says, shaking her head. “You sure did give it your best, especially you, Piper.”

My heart drops to the absolute, most putrid basement of disappointment. Tears prick my eyes.

And then a huge grin splits her face. “And it sure did pay off: you ladies raised five hundred eighty-six dollars and seventy-nine cents!”

We all look at each other, not believing what we just heard.

“Wait,” I say, “how much of that do we get to keep for Jewel and Baby?”

Mrs. B gives my shoulder a squeeze. “You get to keep all of it, Piper.”

Quick, I do the math in my head.

“And,” I whisper in case it isn’t true, “we have one hundred and twenty-six dollars over what we need?”

Mama grins. “And seventy-nine cents.”

Fire digs into the pocket of her jeans. She drops a penny into the pile of change. “Make that eighty cents.”

“We did it, Piper!” Daria says, hugging me.

And then we hug, all of us together—me, Mama, Karina, Fire, Daria, and Mrs. B—laughing and crying good tears.

Finally, we untangle. Karina glances at the clock.

Her mother nods. “We’ve got phone calls to make, and quick.”

56

His Jewel

Baby hears the door open.

He sits up.

It is not the usual time to eat.

It is not the usual time to go outside.

Dogs bark and bellow their greetings

of hope.

Footsteps hurry toward him.

He looks to the empty space next door.

But she is no longer there.

She and the little brown bunny

went to a new home,

a forever home,

where they will love her

silver face and soothe

her aching bones.

Then Baby smells an almost

most wonderful smell:

the girl!

She has come back!

Baby jumps against her legs

and yips his happiness.

She scoops him up,

kisses the top of his head,

and carries him out

into the sunlit lobby.

The room is filled with faces

all smiling

(except that cat)

at him.

The man named Brandon.

The woman named Tamara.

The man whose gentle hands

feed him, take him out

into the sunlight.

The woman who smells like the girl

he has come to love.

Still,

Baby searches for the face,

the particular smell of the one

who holds his heart with hers

but he does not find her there.

His ears droop.

His bit of a tail sags

with disappointment.

The girl sets him down on the floor.

“Look, Baby,” she says.

“Look what I have for you.”