Emma rolled her eyes. “I thought Mr. Scallywag was your best friend. And anyway, that lizard’s probably halfway to the sewer by now.”
That earned a shriek from Sadie and another wave of crying. I bent down to console her, but she wriggled away, shouting, “Don’t move or you’ll step on him!”
Which of course made Ethan take a few more startled steps back until he was all the way out in the hallway. Emma burst out laughing, but I tried not to.
“Not to be an alarmist,” I told him, “but you’re probably safer in here than the hall.”
Ethan’s face went white. “This isn’t funny. I can’t stand scaly things.”
“It’s a little funny,” I said, biting back my laughter. “And also, you have nothing to worry about, because newts don’t have scales.”
“They might as well,” he muttered, his gaze sweeping the floor in the hallway.
The door creaked open across the hall and Will appeared, hair sticking up, eyes heavy with sleep. “What’s going on?”
“We’re looking for Winston.” Sadie’s panic was still there, but the tears had thankfully subsided.
He yawned with that default lack of interest I was becoming familiar with. “Why do you call all the bugs you find, Winston?”
She started yet another explanation about how Winston was distinctly not a bug. And between Emma’s teasing and Ethan’s horror, I needed to lighten things up.
“Almost didn’t recognize you without your headphones on,” I said, and smiled at him. “For a second, I thought a strange kid must’ve broken in during the night.”
He cracked a smile then. Small, but it was there.
Ethan didn’t miss it either. “Huh. Thought you lost the ability to do that when you turned twelve.”
Will rolled his eyes, but didn’t stop smiling.
Sadie tugged at my hand. “What if he fell down the stairs?”
“Okay, everyone,” I said, clapping my hands to call the search party to order. “We’re going to move this downstairs. We’ll check under everything, behind doors, and whatever you do… move slowly, step carefully. Got it?”
Ethan made a low sound of protest. “I’ll wait up here. Tell me when the coast is clear.”
Sadie stopped at the top of the stairs and looked at him, aghast. “You’re not gonna help us look?”
I could’ve bailed him out, especially with the desperate look he gave me. But if my Sunday morning was going to be dedicated to Winston, then I wanted company.
“I don’t want him to die.” The little girl drove home the final blow that obliterated whatever excuse Ethan might have had.
His shoulders slumped, and he gestured for us to lead the way, muttering something likeGod, help meas he followed the troop downstairs.
We fanned out through the rooms downstairs, the early light still gray through the windows. Sadie checked under couches and behind curtains, narrating her every movewith heartbreaking optimism. Emma, less enthused, poked halfheartedly at corners with a throw pillow for a shield, while Will knelt near the TV console, lifting cords and sighing heavily as though he could think of a hundred things he’d rather be doing.
Ethan had ducked into the kitchen first thing, and went to sit on a bar stool at the island in the center of the room. Feet safely off the floor. Every time I passed the doorway, I caught him nervously looking around as though he expected to be ambushed at any second.
We were mid–living room sweep when the front door opened without so much as a knock.
“Everyone’s up, but I don’t smell bacon. What a disappointment,” a familiar, amused voice called.
Miles.
Adrian trailed in behind him, both of them looking entirely too awake for this hour.
“Nice jammies,” he said, holding back a grin.
“What’s wrong with my pajamas?” I finally gave in. “First Ethan, and now you. It’s a t-shirt and pants.”
