“Natie,” his sister said after the grade had become less steep and the snow had slowed down to gentle flurries. “There’s something I need to tell you, but you might get mad.”

“Okay. What?”

“You know when we were at the bowling alley with Naomi, and Pauline came over and said Naomi stole her bracelet? And everyone was thinking maybe she did?”

“Not me,” Nate said.

“It wasn’t Naomi that took the bracelet. It was me. I have it in my golden box.”

Careful as he was to keep his eye on the road, Nate took a quick look at his sister. She was sitting very straight in her seat, and she was studying his face. Her horse was clasped in one hand, and her pocketbook, containing the new drawing of herself that she’d made for their father, was in the other. Her face registered a look of terrible uncertainty—as frightened as Nate’s had been driving over the pass. He found a spot to pull over and turned off the car.

“I stole something one time,” he said. “A few times, actually. From a store. Baseball cards. I thought it would feel good to have them, but it didn’t.”

“I never even wore her dumb bracelet,” Junie said. “I just kept it in my box.”

“You know what we need to do, don’t you?” he said, putting an arm around her. “You’ve got to give the bracelet back to Pauline, J. Even though we don’t like her one bit, it’s not okay to steal things like that.”

“I know,” she said. “And you’ve got to give back the cards.”

“Just so you know,” Nate said. “Pauline had it coming to her.”

“Know what I think happened to Poppa’s watch?” Junie said after a minute. “Know who I think took it? Back at the science fair, when we were walking around looking at other people’s projects?”

“I think I do,” he said.

The two of them spoke the answer at the same exact second: “Pauline!” Then they burst out laughing.

Even though she didn’t mean to, Junie finally fell asleep, a little outside of Prairie City according to their map. By the time she woke up again, they were on the outskirts of Warm Springs. Off in the distance Nate could see a few tall buildings and grain elevators.

The fuel gauge was on empty. Nate had just enough gas to pull over on the side of the road before the engine cut out altogether.

“Looks like we’re walking the rest of the way, J,” he told his sister, hopping out. She grabbed hold of his hand.

They walked along a street, with no idea where to go. A woman approached them, pushing a baby in a stroller.