Not everyone. There was still one guest left in the Heartwood. Caught up in her anger, Mona almost tripped over Skim the snail.

He was slowly inching down the hall. His glasses were polished so they shone. His shell, too. It looked like it was coated with a special glittery slime.

“Ah, Mona,” said Skim. “I hoped to encounter you!”

Mona took a deep breath to calm herself down.

“I read the guest books last night,” the snail continued.

“ALL of them?” Mona couldn’t believe it.

“I’m not a speed-reading champion for nothing.” Skim grinned.

“And…?” This was just what she needed. Mona’s heart hummed with hope. At last she’d find out what her parents had written.

“As I said, I read all the guest books. Did you know that the famous poet Tennyson the turtle stayed here?”

“And…” prompted Mona.

“And the cherished chipmunk author Louisa May Acorn?”

“And my parents,” said Mona.

“Yes, your parents,” replied the snail. “In regard to them, I am afraid there were no entries from mice named Madeline or Timothy.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positively.”

Immediately Mona’s heart sank.

Skim blinked several times. “Perhaps…” he started.

“Thank you,” Mona managed to choke out. She didn’t need to hear more. She knew what “positively” meant. She knew she shouldn’t have expected there to be an entry from her parents, but she had so wished there was. And, of course, Skim had to tell her the bad news now. What was the saying? Bad nuts always came in threes. Well, that was two.

Mona added a polite “Enjoy the party,” and made her way past the snail to the lobby, which was empty now. Everyone was outside. She didn’t even bother to get some books to sit on. She plunked down behind the front desk with an angry thump and disappeared from view.

Why did she and Tilly always have to fight? This time felt worse than ever. And it was all because of Henry.

Laughter carried in from outside as the grand celebration began. Someone must have left the back door open. The party was so loud. Even in the lobby. Especially since the Bluegrass Bandits and the Hippity Hoppers were playing at the same time. The two bands were still competing.

Mona could shut the door, but there was a part of her that wanted to listen. Even though it made her unhappier. When you are mad, sometimes it feels like the whole world is having fun, except for you. And in Mona’s case, it really seemed like it was.

Right when she thought she couldn’t stand it a second longer, Gilles shouted, “STOP!” and the music paused.

“Thank you all for coming to the Splash!” said Gilles enthusiastically. “Isn’t this the biggest? The fanciest? The SPLASHIEST? Isn’t the Heartwood the best hotel in all of Fernwood Forest?!”

The audience applauded in agreement.

“Now, it’s time for what you’ve all been waiting for—our grand-prize announcements. First, the results of the Cutest Egg Competition. The winner will receive this lovely eggshell mosaic.”

The audience cheeped and cheered.

“And…the prize goes to the Robinsons’ egg, Riley…” came Gilles’s shout.

“Rudy…!”

“Rona…!”

“Yes, yes,” said Gilles. “Here you go! Now, aren’t you both glad you stayed for the Heartwood’s MARVELOUS Splash?”

“We are!” chirped Mr. Robinson.

“Careful, dear,” chided Mrs. Robinson.

There was a pause, and Mona figured they were carrying their egg off the stage. She could hear some birds still arguing: “They only won because their egg hasn’t hatched yet.”

Gilles continued, “Next we present the award for the Tiniest Talent Show, a teeny-tiny trophy. The winner? No surprises here…the Fernwood Flares!”

The audience began to clap again, but Gilles said, “Hold your applause, though. The Flares will be collecting their prize later. They are busy warming up inside. They have a fantastic show planned for us tonight. And,” the lizard added, “the final prize! May I have a drumroll, please!”

He got not one but two. And they grew louder and louder.

“OKAY! Thank you, Bandits and Hoppers. That’s enough. The prize for the Best Blossom, a free stay in the penthouse suite, goes to…Henry the squirrel.”

The audience exploded with cheers.

Henry had won! Mona couldn’t believe it.

“Henry?” came Gilles’s voice again, over the clapping. Mona imagined the little squirrel making his way to the stage, his tail growing bigger and bigger, fluffier and fluffier. Tilly would be looking on proudly.

Could this night get any worse?

Yes, it could. As if in answer to her question, Mona heard a shriek. A shriek that by now she recognized well.

The Robinsons. What had happened to their egg this time?

But it was more than the Robinsons’ egg.

RAT-A-TAT! RAT-A-TAT-A-TAT! Tony was sounding the alarm!

What was going on?

Mona knew it. She knew there was going to be trouble. She hadn’t seen hide nor quill of Mr. Quillson inside the hotel. He must be outside. He was trying to ruin the Splash. Had he punctured some of the lanterns? Tipped over the food table? Somehow made the stage collapse?

Or maybe it was Henry. Maybe one of his antics hadn’t ended well. At last Tilly would see the truth, how it was all his fault. He wouldn’t be able to save the day this time. But I will, thought Mona.

She slid down from the chair and ran to the back door, flinging it fully open.

But it wasn’t Mr. Quillson. Or Henry. Or even the Robinsons.

It was something far, far worse.