Page 91

Rio is already out of his chair and heading toward the kitchen. At the doorway he turns back. “Catch it, Juneau,” he calls, and lobs the last of his toast across the room. Juneau’s blunt jaws snap shut on the crust before it hits the floor. Juneau’s excited now. He scrambles up, bumps his head hard on the desk, shakes it off and follows Rio to the kitchen. I almost smile as I trail after them—and it feels good to find something even remotely funny right now.

Two steps later I stop short. What did I just see? When Juneau gave the desk a bump, the motion must have shaken Rio’s computer out of sleep mode. The screen is bright again, filled with the logo of a bright orange tiger holding a computer mouse in its mouth. I know that logo, and there’s only one place it could come from: the software that Rio was looking at when we were at the mall.

The same software that Rio was accused of stealing from school.

A familiar refrain runs through my head: Oh no, Rio. Oh no. Tell me you didn’t do this.

I’ve doubted him twice now. I can’t do it again.