Merjeme, Arta, and their friends had started stealing more. Not just the sugar packets, but anything left out on restaurant and café tables—napkins, cutlery, salt and pepper shakers too.

Aidan told us that Mr. McMillan had even called the police to report them and told the local paper.

Sam and I hadn’t told Luca what we knew about seeing Merjeme and other haven kids stealing that time, so he wasn’t sure who from the haven was guilty until one weekend when me, Jed, Aidan, and Sam had spent the morning and afternoon at the Sorrento Back Beach.

Spring had come, and the warmer weather brought tourists every weekend. And on that particular weekend it was warm enough to take Sam down to the Back Beach. We chucked our towels on the sand and dared each other to sprint into the still-chilly water and back.

I figured being at the beach was better than being at our house. Anika was out of her room more often by then, but still not herself. Luca was at work as usual, and Pop just wanted to stay in his apartment and read.

That afternoon we were riding back up Ocean Beach Road and to the center of town. We’d shoved our towels into our baskets and flip-flops into our backpacks, because it was easier to ride our bikes barefoot, even if the metal pedals stung for a bit after being in the sun so long.

“Would you rather eat toe jam or drink garbage juice?” Aidan asked.

“Depends,” Jed said. “Toe jam if it’s only a day old, but garbage juice if it’s been sitting there a week.”

Sam laughed but I pretended to gag. “You’re disgusting,” I said.

But really it was nice that we’d gone back to normal, for a bit.

Jed shrugged and weaved his bike between me and Sam. “Nah, it makes sense—toe jam after a day wouldn’t be too bad, and garbage juice sitting there for a week would start to go all hard, so you couldn’t drink it anyway.”

“You’re so gross!” I said, then I lifted my butt off the seat to get my legs to pump harder. “And you’ve already got garbage juice for brains, so you may as well drink more of it!”

We were coming up to the bend in Ocean Beach Road, and I meant to race off ahead of them, let the wind rush by and cool my hot face down a bit. But then three bikes came around the corner, going so fast down the little slope that Aidan had to swerve to avoid being hit by one of them.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Aidan yelled.