“Rainbow?” Mr. Townsend asks.

“Rachel’s pony! We can’t keep him because we have to move to an apartment building that will only let us take George.”

“George?”

“Our cat. Rainbow is real easy to take care of. He’s small, so he doesn’t eat a lot, and he never bites or kicks. He likes to be brushed, and he loves carrots.”

I know that what Ivy has done is totally inappropriate, but I’m also grateful, because Mr. Townsend actually looks like he’s considering it.

“We only have the two horse stalls,” he begins.

“Oh, Rainbow can sleep anywhere!” Ivy says. “He doesn’t need a fancy stall, does he, Rachel?”

“No,” I say. “He isn’t picky at all. He could even stay in the stall you use as a tack room.”

“Hmm. Maybe we could divide it up, if he’s as small as you say. Well, I’ll have to discuss it with Greer. . . .”

Ivy looks like she’s about to explode with excitement. “You should come meet him! Right now! Once you meet him, I just know you’ll love him!”

My parents both seem mortified. Usually they would try to shut Ivy up, or apologize. But instead they just stand there looking helpless.

“OK, OK,” Mr. Townsend says. “But first let me give this to your parents.” He puts the cooler on the dining-room table. “Some pork for you,” he says. “Greer and I couldn’t possibly eat it all ourselves. We’ll have some bacon to share, too.”

“Oh,” my mom says, looking confused.

But I realize now what’s in the cooler.

“Sorry, Rachel,” he says to me. “I know you were getting attached. But she wasn’t much longer for this world anyway, and the vet thought the sooner the better, so . . .”

He’s still talking, but I’m not listening.

I stare at the cooler.

He keeps looking at me apologetically.

Ivy hasn’t clued in yet. She grabs my hand and says, “C’mon, Rachel! Let’s introduce Mr. Townsend to Rainbow!” but I shake her off somehow.

My mom waves her away, and I think I hear her say, “Go on — we’ll be out in a minute.” But I’m not sure because I’m staring at the cooler and I know what’s happened and my worn-out heart is racing again and I think this time it is going to break.

My dad grabs the cooler and goes into the kitchen, and Ivy and Mr. Townsend follow behind.

“Rachel?” my mom says. Her hands reach my shoulders, and she moves her face in front of mine. “Are you OK?”

I close my eyes so I don’t have to look at her.

“Rach?”

The back door slams.

I take deep breaths like Micah taught me. I hold them in and count to five before I let them out.