“How’d you find this?” and “I almost want to cry,” and “Please don’t,” and “It’s so detailed,” and “Up in the tree,” and “Which tree?” and “Does it matter?” and “No,” and “It was Nick’s idea to go up there.”

And then so soft, almost missed, “I remember her drawing that.” Everyone turned to Bigs. He took the map from Nick’s hands. It was large and had been rolled into a spiral for so long that it kept curling back up like a reluctant child. “She kept it in the shed.” He folded the sentence into himself as if reabsorbing every word. “It was some project she was working on. She never told me why she was doing it. Just that she was.”

Each person cast their eyes downward, containing their jealousy, remembering Marley’s very stern command that we were no longer allowed in her shed.

“She made me promise not to tell anyone,” Bigs continued. We all knew a Marley promise was not to be broken. Our envy sat like a cloud over the sun. “But my letter said to share something no one else but me knows. So there you go.” He turned like he was going to walk away, then pivoted again. “Before we do anything else with this map, why don’t we go back to where Olivia got out? We need to look for Harrison and Ruby. Or I can go down into the tunnels and try to find them. We can’t keep going while they’re missing,” he said.

“No!” Teeny yelled. “No one’s going back there. We’ll go out to the desert and look for them.”

Like always, it was follow or defy.

We all followed.

After a brief and silent car ride in the Campbells’ Civic, Bigs parked at the end of Ms. DeVeau’s street. Her orange house mocked me with its solitude. If only the twins hadn’t found me, I could’ve gotten her to talk. I know I could have.

I pushed the thought away and led the group out into the open land, where the sun kept a steady eye on us, its golden face tracking our every step.

“The Point of No Return,” Teeny remarked when we reached the sign. “Never thought I’d see the day we ended up here. If there really is quicksand, I’m out.”

Everyone chuckled, even Aidy, who’d always had trouble committing to an angry posture for an extended period of time. I led them all to the sewer entrance. The cover was still ajar, but it looked to be in the exact position I’d left it. Even my belly-flop sand imprint appeared fresh and untouched.

“Harrison!” Aidy started yelling, leaning so far over the hole, everyone seemed to fear she’d fall in. We each took a reaching step toward her. “Harrison!”

Then, incredibly, we heard the faintest whisper of a “Yeah?”