Clinging to the side of the house, Evan kept repeating those words to himself. “We’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”

Then Trigger started to bark.

A low bark of surprise at first. And then a louder series of barks, insistent barks, excited barks.

Evan swallowed hard. He glanced down to the ground.

Trigger was peering up at him, jumping against the side of the house, as if trying to reach the ledge. The dog barked louder with each jump.

“Trigger—no!” Evan called down in a frantic whisper.

That only made the dog bark more furiously.

Did Conan hear it? Could he hear Trigger’s ferocious barks over the music?

“Trigger—stop! Go home! Go home!”

Suddenly the music stopped.

Trigger’s excited barks rose up even louder against the new silence.

Conan must hear them now, Evan realized.

The cocker spaniel threw himself wildly against the side of the house, trying to get up to Evan and Andy. Despite Evan’s frantic signals to be quiet, the dumb dog barked his head off.

Evan’s breath caught in his throat as he heard Conan making his way to the window.

A second later, Conan stuck his head out. “What’s going on?” he shouted.

Evan’s knees buckled. He started to fall.

Evan clung to the brick wall and stopped his fall.

He stared at Conan’s blond hair poking out the window. Evan was close enough to reach out and touch it.

“Shut up down there!” Conan shouted.

That made Trigger bark even louder.

He’s going to see us, Evan thought, trembling all over.

There’s no way Conan won’t see us.

“Conan—come here!” Mrs. Barber’s voice floated up from downstairs. “Conan—come down and have your cake and ice cream. You said you were dying for dessert!” she called.

Conan’s head disappeared back into the bedroom. “There’s some stupid dog barking down there,” he called to his mother.

Clinging to the side of the house, struggling to keep his quivering knees from buckling again, Evan shut his eyes and listened.

He heard Conan’s footsteps cross the room. The bedroom light went out.

Silence.

“He—left,” Evan choked out.

Andy let out a long breath. “I can’t believe he didn’t see us out here.”

Evan glanced down to the ground. Trigger had finally stopped barking. But he continued to stand and stare up at them, his front paws against the side of the house, his stubby tail spinning like a propeller.

“Dumb dog,” Evan muttered.

“Let’s go,” Andy urged. She didn’t wait for Evan. She practically did a swan dive into the house.

It took Evan a few moments to get his legs to work. Then he ducked his head and climbed through the window after Andy.

Holding his breath, he led the way on tiptoe to the bedroom door. He stopped and listened.

Silence. No one in the dark hallway.

He could hear the Barbers’ voices downstairs in the kitchen.

He and Andy made their way to the top of the stairs. Then, holding tightly to the banister, they crept halfway down.

Evan stopped to listen again. Andy bumped right into him, nearly sending him sailing down the stairs. “Shhh!” she cried.

They could hear Conan talking to his parents in the kitchen. He was complaining about the other guys on the basketball team. “They’re all wimps,” Evan heard Conan say.

“Well, that’ll make you look even better,” Mr. Barber replied.

Evan took another deep breath and held it. Then he made his way down to the bottom of the stairs.

Almost out, he thought, his entire body shaking. Almost out of here.

He reached for the front doorknob.

“Conan, go upstairs and get your math book,” he heard Mr. Barber say. “I want to see the homework you had trouble with.”

“Okay,” Conan replied. His chair scraped against the floor.

Andy grabbed Evan’s shoulder.

They stared in frozen horror at each other—one foot away from escape—and waited to be caught.

“Conan—don’t go now. Get the book later,” Mrs. Barber chimed in. Then they heard her scold Conan’s father: “Let the boy have his cake and ice cream.”