“You’re not, and it’s okay,” Stevie said. “I wish I did have some kind of plan. I just…” She shrugged helplessly as she looked down at the dog, then around the lobby.

I was wondering if she was feeling what I was feeling—like she was waiting for someone to show up and tell us what to do. We spent most of our lives that way, after all, whether it was parents or teachers or Mr. Campbell literally telling us where to go, what to say, and how to say it, our every move onstage blocked out. “If it wasn’t for the dog,” she said, shaking her head, and I nodded. I felt the same way. If it wasn’t for the dog, we could just leave now, and trust that at some point tonight, we’d be able to get back into the apartment to get our stuff. We had enough cash to get around. But the Pomeranian was complicating things.

Like he knew we were talking about him, Brad looked up at us. He let out what could only be described as a disappointed whine before flopping down on the ground, head on his paws, looking longingly toward the door.

“What about Mateo?” I asked, getting an inspiration. “Would he have an extra set of keys?”

“Maybe,” said Stevie, her tone reluctant. She stared down at her phone. “I just—it was bad enough to have to see Mallory, you know? I don’t really want to have to deal with him, too.”

“I know,” I said, even though in that moment, I really didn’t. Who cared if her stepsiblings had never been friendly? We had an emergency here! “Want me to call?” I asked after a minute in which Stevie continued to stare down at her phone but didn’t actually dial it.

“No, I’ll do it,” she said with a sigh as she scrolled through her contacts and stopped on Mateo, putting the phone on speaker.

“Hey! Howzit, Stephanie?” a cheerful-sounding guy’s voice said, picking up after the second ring.

“Hello, Mateo,” said Stevie, her tone polite.

“What’s going on?”

“Um—so we’re at Mallory’s apartment—” Stevie took a breath and filled him in (I jumped in too, and then introduced myself when he got confused) about our situation. “We were hoping that you might have an extra key to her apartment?” Stevie locked eyes with me, and I crossed my first two fingers on both hands.

“You know…,” Mateo said slowly. “I am pretty sure I do.” My eyebrows flew up and I looked at Stevie, who looked as happy and surprised by this news as I was.

“That’s—amazing,” Stevie said. She was starting to lose the pinched, stressed look she’d had ever since the door had slammed behind us.

“Yeah,” Mateo said. “Listen, can you come up here to Columbia to get them? I’m finishing up a study session.”