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the middle of the fire.”
    Our pastor keeps going with the story, but I can’t hear him. I’m too busy imagining Grayson in a crown, about to push Dream and me into a fiery furnace.
    When we get home from church, Ethan races into the house. Munch barks and chases after him. Squash runs after him too. When the rest of us trail in, my brother is standing over the fish tank. He turns around, and his face says it all. Abednego, he signs. He’s dead.
    We hover over Ethan and his dead fish.
    â€œI’m sorry, Son,” Dad says. He pats Ethan on the head.
    â€œIt’s all my fault,” Mom insists. “I never should have brought you an almost-dead fish. I hope you know that you got more life out of that little guy than anyone else could have.”
    â€œI’m sorry, Ethan,” I say, signing it at the same time. I want to come up with something more. I just can’t think of anything to say. He looks so sad, as if he’s known this fish his whole life.
    Ethan chooses a “burial at sea” for his fish. The four of us gather around the toilet. Ethan holds Abednego by the tail. He closes his eyes, and Mom and Dad do too.
    I know my brother is praying. I wish he’d sign it. I want to know what he and God are talking about. Because somehow when Ethan prays, things happen.
    Ethan opens his eyes and smiles. Then he flushes the toilet. He was a good fish, Ethan signs. I’d better go check on Shadrach and Meshach.

    The rest of the day I spend with Dream. We walk, trot, and canter all over Hamilton . . . as if this will be our last ride.
    It’s getting dark when we arrive back home. Just as I get to the house, Mom drives up with Dad and Ethan in the car. I realize I’ve missed our Sunday evening supper out at Crazy Larry’s Dairies. But I don’t care. I wouldn’t have wanted to leave my horse.
    I brush Dream and get her settled, then walk inside.
    There’s a voice I don’t recognize, and at first I think there’s someone else in the house. But when I tiptoe to the kitchen, I only see Mom and Dad and Ethan. They’re huddled over the phone. The voice I hear is coming from the answering machine. Dad hits the button again, and I listen as Mom signs to Ethan.
    â€œThis is Martin Clayton, Grayson’s father. I know my sister brought the kids to your house and confirmed that you have our horse. We would prefer not to involve the authorities. My sister believes you came upon the horse by accident. Apparently she was unable to resolve this herself. I’ll be in your area tomorrow. I’ll make arrangements to haul the horse away at your convenience. Please call me when you get this message.”
    His voice sounds like a television announcer’s. I picture a larger version of Grayson. The man gives his phone number and again asks—no, tells —us to call him back. He ends the call with something like “The law is the law, and it’s on our side.”
    The machine clicks off. All eyes turn to me.
    Without a word, I walk to my room, fall onto my bed, and cry myself to sleep.

9

    Endings
    Monday is our last day of school. Ethan and I always celebrate the end of school with a crazy breakfast. Mom lets us choose chocolate cake, hot fudge sundaes, ice cream cones, or anything else we dream up.
    But this morning neither of us is hungry. I sit at the breakfast table and listen to my dad’s report on how he and Mom have tried everything they could think of to keep Dream. I stare into my orange juice and nod like I’m taking in Dad’s explanations. Only I feel like I’m asleep. I’m still in the middle of my nightmare. I want to wake up and discover that none of this is really happening.
    â€œI’m being honest with you, honey,” Dad says. “You deserve that much. Maybe we should have done something more when we first got Dream. Maybe we could have legally claimed your horse then. I just don’t