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  Beatrice slumped into one of the seats.

  Upside down, some of the pressure emptied out of her head. Her eyelids drifted closed, and her breathing returned to normal.

  “Here you go,” said Ms. Cindy.

  When Beatrice opened her eyes, she barely noticed the water Ms. Cindy offered, or her comforting smile.

  All she saw were clunky boots, shuffling past her face.

  The boots passed right by Beatrice’s head, then trudged out the glass door and into the main corridor of William Charles Elementary.

  They weren’t just any boots.

  These boots belonged to Sam Darzi.

  Mr. Hannah, the school counselor, stood in the doorway to his office, waving good-bye. “Stop back anytime, Sam.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Hannah.”

  Sam hoisted her bag onto her shoulder and swung around. Her heavy boots carried her away, her yellow backpack drooping behind her.

  Halfway down the hall, the bag slid down her sagging shoulders. The zipper gaped open, and something tumbled to the floor.

  Beatrice didn’t know what Sam lugged around in her yellow bag, but one possibility made her heart pound. Wes’s award might be lying in the middle of the hallway.

  All she had to do was get up and grab it.

  Beatrice flipped out of her seat.

  “Thanks, Ms. Cindy!” she yelled on her way out the door. “I’m feeling a lot better now!”

  14

  SAM’S PUPPET

  As Beatrice approached the object, one thing was certain. It was not a piece of paper with Wes Carver’s name on it.

  Keeping an eye on Sam, Beatrice crouched down to get a better look.

  Crumpled on the floor was a tangle of yarn and fabric. Beatrice pinched a corner and lifted it up. Nothing could have surprised her more.

  It was a puppet version of Sam.

  Beatrice had a similar puppet of her own, fashioned from a forgotten sock she’d found in Mr. Hannah’s art supplies. If it were her puppet, she’d want it back.

  “Sam!” Beatrice called to the dot drifting down the hall.

  Sam did not respond. She continued down the corridor, getting smaller with each step, unaware a piece of her was lying on the floor behind her.

  “Sam!” Beatrice yelled again.

  Sam kept shrinking farther away.

  Beatrice filled up her lungs and shouted once more in her loudest voice. “SAM!!!”

  This time Sam turned.

  Only half her face was visible in the shadows. The other half was hidden by a veil of hair.

  Beatrice held up the puppet.

  “You dropped this.”

  Sam’s eye widened. Her hands tightened around the straps of her backpack. Even half-hidden in shadow and hair, the shock on her face was obvious.

  Sam opened her mouth like she was about to say something, but before the words reached her lips, she changed her mind and shook her head. “That’s not mine,” she said instead.

  Beatrice stepped closer and slipped the puppet over her hand. “No, see?” She opened and closed the puppet’s mouth, mirroring the real Sam. “I saw it fall out of your bag.”

  Sam’s mouth straightened. “I already told you,” she repeated, “it’s not mine.”

  The puppet belonged to Sam. The evidence was indisputable.

  But Exhibit C convinced Beatrice to let it go.

  Beatrice pulled the sock off her fingers.

  She’d made enough mistakes for one day.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, staring straight at Sam. She’d looked so different in the coat closet earlier, two-eyed and half smiling. Beatrice tucked the puppet behind her. “My mistake.”

  “No big deal,” said Sam.

  She turned her back and disappeared into the shadows. Her form grew smaller and less recognizable with each step.

  With her yellow bag clutched to her back, she looked like a deep-sea diver, sinking into the murky depths of the ocean.

  Watching her fade into the distance, Beatrice felt tethered to Sam, like they were holding opposite ends of the same rope.

  Today each had kept something that did not belong to them. And neither had said what they were really thinking.

  Beatrice was still trying to make sense of their conversation when the lunch bell rattled above her head.

  15

  AN EASY DECISION

  A stampede of third-graders trampled down the corridor on their way to the cafeteria.

  Beatrice flattened herself against the wall, relieved. At least she hadn’t missed lunch.

  Lenny and Chloe lagged at the end of the pack.

  Relief spread across Lenny’s face when she saw Beatrice. Beatrice stuffed Sam’s puppet into her pocket and waved.

  “Oh, good—you came back,” Lenny said. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah,” said Chloe. “You’re acting really weird today.”

  Lenny tilted her head and studied Beatrice’s face. With Chloe around, there was so much they couldn’t say.

  Beatrice lifted her shoulders. “I’m always weird.”

  “Weirder than normal,” Chloe clarified.

  The scent of stuffed-crust pizza filled the air as they reached the end of the hall. “Maybe I’m just hungry,” said Beatrice, veering toward the blue doors of the cafeteria.

  Chloe stopped. “Aren’t you coming to Foreign Language Club?”

  Kate’s club was the last thing on Beatrice’s mind. She looked left and inhaled the promise of comfort food. She glanced to the right, at the wooden doors that led to the library.

  Her stomach growled in protest.

  Her lunch bag was still sitting in her backpack.

  “You can share our lunch,” offered Chloe.

  Lenny waved a hand in front of Beatrice’s face. “You’re coming, right?”

  Just then, Sam Darzi came around the corner and opened the library doors. Suddenly the decision was easy. The cafeteria had pizza, but the library had Wes’s award.

  And another chance to get it back.

  Beatrice looped her arm through Lenny’s. “Of course I’m coming.”

  Wooden chairs were arranged in four neat rows in the center of the library. Kate stood up front, flipping through flash cards in her red presidential blazer.

  Beatrice untangled herself from her friends.

  Sam and her yellow backpack were bobbing through books at the back of the room. For the sake of Operation Upside, Beatrice had to try again.

  “Save me a seat?” she asked Lenny. “I need to check something out.”

  “Can’t you do it after?”

  Beatrice shook her head.

  “It might be too late by then.”

  Chloe wandered up front to introduce herself to Kate.

  Lenny narrowed her eyes at Beatrice. “I’m not sure what you’re up to, but don’t forget—we are lying low, Zulu.”

  16

  A SPECIAL PROJECT

  Beatrice followed Sam’s yellow backpack as it blinked between the stacks. Behind her, Kate was at the podium, already introducing herself to the group. Enthusiastic bonjours and holas rippled through the room.

  Sam zigged behind a bookcase.

  She zagged around a corner.

  With every twist and turn, Beatrice zigzagged with her.

  Sam finally slowed down in an aisle labeled LANGUAGE. Her fingers scanned the spines as she searched the shelves. At the end of the row, she pulled out a title, then folded to the floor with the book in her lap.

  Beatrice scouted for a better view.

  Sam was studying a

  Morse code manual.

  Sam’s finger followed the alphabet of dots and dashes down the page as Beatrice’s heart hammered in her chest. Her mysterious neighbor was up to something.

  It looked like Sam had a plan.

  One that involved secret code.

  A corner of Wes’s award peeked out as Sam reached into her backpack. Her hand rummaged past it, digging deeper, and retrieved a long white envelope i
nstead.

  A crisp sheet of paper was tucked inside. It wasn’t Wes’s UPSIDE, but it looked just as official. Without Beatrice’s binoculars, though, the lettering was too small to read.

  Sam abruptly lifted her nose out of the manual. Looking over both shoulders, she stuffed the letter into the spine and snapped the cover shut.

  Sam sulked to the center of the library and slumped into an end seat in the back row of Kate’s audience. Beatrice stayed ten steps behind and took the empty seat next to Lenny and Chloe.

  “Did I miss anything?” Beatrice asked Lenny.

  Chloe put a finger to her lips, then handed Beatrice half a sandwich.

  Lenny leaned into Beatrice’s ear. “Your sister doesn’t mess around. She started at twelve o’clock on the dot.” She passed Beatrice a packet of paperwork and a bag of chips. “You already missed the project sign-up.”

  “Project sign-up?”

  In all of Kate’s practice sessions, Beatrice had never heard about a project. She crunched a chip in frustration.

  First no stuffed-crust pizza.

  Now homework?

  “Chloe and I already partnered up.” Lenny grimaced an apology. “You can only have two people per group.”

  Kate stopped midsentence at the front of the room. Her eyes zeroed in on Beatrice. “It looks like we have a latecomer.”

  Kate’s presentation froze on the screen behind her.

  “Hi,” said Beatrice, with a little wave.

  “Bonjour,” said Kate, in her trying-to-be-patient voice. “We’ve already divided into groups of two for the project. Do you want to be with Lenny?”

  Lenny nodded vigorously, encouraging Beatrice to say yes.

  “I could make an exception for you,” Kate said.

  Beatrice hesitated.

  She wanted to work with Lenny, but her eyes drifted to the back row where Sam was slouched in her seat, flipping pages in her Morse code manual.

  “Actually,” said Beatrice, looking up at Kate, “I have a different idea.”

  Panic flushed across her sister’s face. “A different idea?”

  “If it’s okay with you,” said Beatrice, “I want to work on a special project with Sam Darzi.”

  Lenny’s mouth dropped open.

  Sound disappeared from the already quiet library. Heads ping-ponged around the room, bouncing between Beatrice and Kate and the dark-haired girl in the back row.

  Sam’s eyes were fixed on her boots.

  Kate gripped the podium.

  “What do you have in mind?” she asked.

  “A special project,” said Beatrice. “About secret languages.”

  “Like Pig Latin?”

  “Pig Latin, and other things …” Beatrice peeked back at Sam. “Like Morse code.”

  Sam flipped her book facedown and looked away with a frown.

  Kate tilted her head, considering.

  A roomful of heads tilted with her.

  “Très bien,” she finally declared. “I like it.”

  She passed Beatrice the sign-up sheet.

  Whispers replaced the silence, as opinions spattered through the room.

  Chloe leaned over. “See what I mean about being weird?”

  Lenny bit into her sandwich, waiting to see what Beatrice would say.

  Beatrice shrugged. “It’s a weird day.”

  Having a secret from Lenny was the weirdest thing in the world. She wished Lenny already knew about Sam—what Sam saw, what she knew, and most of all, what she was carrying in her backpack.

  Even more than that, Beatrice wished she could undo her mistake. Maybe there was still a way to fix it before Lenny found out.

  Beatrice added Sam’s name next to her own, then passed the clipboard back to Kate.

  “Merci,” she mouthed in her sister’s favorite language.

  Kate nodded. “Next time, don’t be late.”

  Beatrice glanced at the back row—to the reason for her tardiness—but Sam was gone.

  17

  A PROMISING SIGN

  After dinner, Beatrice escaped to her room to think. She hauled her backpack onto the top bunk and removed Sam’s puppet.

  The puppet’s one eye watched Beatrice warily as she arranged the strands on Sam’s head. The button never blinked. Beatrice gazed back, wishing she could figure out the mystery of Sam Darzi if she stared hard enough, or looked long enough.

  Beatrice fitted the puppet over her hand. The puppet continued to observe her with its one oversized eye.

  Beatrice lifted the yarn off the puppet’s forehead. The curiosity was impossible to resist. To her surprise, another eye peeked out.

  “Wow,” said Beatrice. “Sam actually gave you two eyes.”

  It was a promising sign.

  “There’s someone I want you to meet,” she told the sock on her hand.

  “Sam, this is Beatrice,” she said, introducing a puppet version of herself to Sam’s sock. “Beatrice, this is Sam.”

  Beatrice flipped upside down and all three heads hung off the bunk.

  “Whoa,” said Sam’s puppet.

  “I know,” said Beatrice. “It’s the best.”

  “Now I have a headache,” the sock complained.

  “That’s what Kate always says,” said Beatrice. She stared at Sam’s sock. Upside down, it looked completely different. “But I like the view.”

  Sam’s puppet frowned.

  Upside down it looked a lot like a smile.

  The almost-smile gave Beatrice the courage to ask the one thing she’d always wanted to know about Sam.

  “Why don’t you talk to anyone?”

  Sam’s sock didn’t answer right away.

  Eventually, it mumbled, “Maybe I don’t have anything to say.”

  Beatrice didn’t believe that. Not for a second.

  “Everyone has something to say.” She opened her hand and moved Sam’s puppet mouth.

  “Are you talking to yourself?”

  Kate stood in the doorway, smirking.

  Beatrice shoved the puppets behind her back. “I’m just doing some research. For my project.”

  Kate leaned against the bunk. “So,” she said. “What’s it like working with Sam so far?”

  There was only one word for it.

  “Mysterious,” said Beatrice. “Very mysterious.”

  As Kate wandered into their closet to hang up her blazer, Beatrice had an idea.

  “Hey, Kate? Can I borrow your cape?”

  Her sister’s sigh drifted across the room.

  “It’s a pon-cho.” Kate drew out the word, like its two syllables were each a mile long, and then marched to the bed, cape in hand.

  “Here,” she said, draping the fabric over Beatrice’s bedpost. “Just keep it.”

  “Really?” said Beatrice. “Thanks! It’s going to be perfect for tomorrow!”

  Beatrice lifted up the blinds and smiled out into the night.

  Wes would still get his award.

  She was going to turn this disaster around.

  Sam Darzi lived right across the street. They sat in Classroom 3B together five days a week. They were working on a special project—and now Beatrice owned a cape.

  Sam couldn’t stay a mystery forever.

  18

  THE REAL SAM

  The next morning, fog gave way to sunshine.

  In the early yellow light, the world looked fresh and full of potential. Each blade of grass sparkled, and the changing trees showed off their colors.

  Beatrice couldn’t wait to talk to Sam.

  While the rest of the sidewalk glittered in sunlight, the Darzi house still looked gloomy. Shades cloaked the windows. The overgrown tree in the front yard swallowed the porch in shadow.

  Sam’s house looked a lot like Sam.

  “Good morning, dear!” called a friendly voice behind Beatrice. A red leash curled around her legs, and Scrappy’s familiar face mewed up at her.

  Beatrice spun around in surprise.

  “Mrs. Jenk
ins!” she cried.

  “Have you seen Sam this morning?” Mrs. Jenkins lifted a book with a fancy yellow bow tied around it. “I want to thank her for taking care of Scrappy while I was away.”

  Beatrice shook her head back and forth.

  She hadn’t seen Sam yet.

  “That’s okay,” said Mrs. Jenkins, patting her hand. “I’ll see her this afternoon.”

  “Sam was helping you?”

  “Wasn’t that nice of her?” Mrs. Jenkins’s face tilted up at the sky. Her silver hair glowed in the sunshine. “Isn’t it a beautiful day?”

  She untangled the leash from Beatrice’s legs and scooped Scrappy into her arms. “Don’t forget to come see us later. As usual—we’ll have tea!”

  Mrs. Jenkins waved and continued down the road, Scrappy tucked under one arm and Sam’s present under the other.

  As they turned the corner, Beatrice studied Sam’s window. She wondered again what Sam planned to do with Wes’s award.

  There were a lot of possibilities.

  Some prospects were bad—but there were some good ones too.

  It was a beautiful day, just like Mrs. Jenkins had said, so Beatrice flipped her cape over her shoulder, hopped on the bus, and hoped for the best.

  When Beatrice arrived at school, everything seemed normal.

  Wes was greeting students at the front door, just like he always did. He wasn’t smiling like someone who had just received an award with his name lettered in gold.

  When Mr. Hannah passed Beatrice in the hall, he didn’t give her a second glance. Apparently, Sam hadn’t ratted Beatrice out in the counselor’s office yesterday, either.

  Beatrice walked into Classroom 3B and found Lenny and Chloe huddled together with the rest of the veterinary crew, trying on lab coats and using Lenny’s new stencils.