“It wasn’t my fault!” Teeny wailed. “Melody pushed me!”

“I didn’t push you, Teeny,” Melody insisted.

“Did so!”

“Stop arguing and somebody go find a broom,” Miss Hogan said, taking charge.

“There’s one over there in the corner,” Bee-Bee said, pointing. “I’ll go get the dustpan. Everyone, please be careful not to step on the glass.”

“I’m gonna pick out my color,” said Teeny. Then she turned to Nick and added, “I’ll pick one out for you, too, if you want.”

“Uh, that’s okay,” said Nick.

Teeny marched over to the glass cabinet and, after examining the bottles of nail polish for a minute, plucked number fifty-four from the shelf. Teeny looked over her shoulder to see if anyone was watching. There was something she’d been itching to do since the minute she’d walked into the Bee Hive. With everyone busy cleaning up the glass from the broken bowl, now seemed like the perfect time. Moving slowly, so as not to draw attention to herself, she made her way across the room to the row of hair dryers. Quietly climbing into a chair, she pulled one of the dome-shaped beehives down over her head and switched it on, grinning happily as the hot air began to whip her hair around.

“We’re really sorry,” Nick told Bee-Bee as he took the dustpan from her and squatted down on the floor.

“No worries,” Bee-Bee told him. “I’m just glad nobody was hurt.”

Miss Hogan swept a pile of broken glass and candy into the dustpan, then turned to Melody.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” Melody replied.

“The child says you pushed her.”

“I didn’t,” said Melody. But she could tell by the look on her face that Miss Hogan didn’t believe her.

“If there’s one thing I can’t abide in a person” — Miss Hogan sniffed with disdain — “it’s dishonesty.”

Melody felt her face getting hot. She knew she shouldn’t say anything, but she couldn’t help it.

“That’s pretty funny coming from you, don’t you think?” she said.

Miss Hogan’s eyes flashed, and when her upper lip curled, Melody saw a bright red lipstick stain on her front teeth.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Miss Hogan snapped.

“You don’t have to pretend anymore, Miss Hogan,” said Melody. “Your secret is out. I know about the wedding. I know about everything.”

Miss Hogan was mad as a hornet.

“You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Melody Bishop, poking your nose into other people’s business! How dare you? When your father gets back from his camping trip, the three of us are going to sit down and have a serious talk about this.”

Your father. The way she said it was so … familiar. It gave Melody chills.

After thanking Bee-Bee for her time, Miss Hogan snatched up her hat and stormed out of the Bee Hive, slamming the door behind her.

Melody turned to Nick.

“Now do you believe me?” she asked miserably.

There was no getting around it — things did not look good. Miss Hogan hadn’t denied anything, and the fact that she knew Melody’s father had gone camping was pretty incriminating, too.

“I’m sorry, Bishop,” Nick said. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Yeah. Ask your phone to find out how much a one-way ticket to Siberia costs,” she told him. She was only half kidding.

Bee-Bee, who had been standing there quietly through all of this, finally spoke up.

“Can somebody please explain what just happened?” she asked.

“It’s kind of a long story,” Nick told her. “But I guess we should start by telling you that we didn’t really come here to get our fingernails painted.”

“I did!” cried Teeny. She had grown bored with the hair dryer, and was ready to move on to the main event. Her hair was so tangled and teased up from being under the dryer, she looked like a tumbleweed with pink legs. “Here’s the color I want,” she said, holding up the bottle of nail polish she’d chosen earlier.

Melody glanced over at Nick. “Do you want to tell her, or should I?”

When Teeny found out she wasn’t going to be getting a manicure after all, she had a total meltdown.

“It’s not fair!” she said, stamping her foot. “I already picked out my color!”

“Maybe you can come back some other time with your mother,” Bee-Bee suggested.

“But I want to do it right now!” Teeny sobbed, throwing herself down on the floor in despair.

“Is there anything else you can think of that might cheer you up?” Bee-Bee asked, leaning over her.

Teeny looked up at Bee-Bee, and Melody could hear those little gears turning inside her head again.

“Candy makes my feelings feel better,” Teeny sniffled.

It might have been the first thing Teeny had ever said that Melody agreed with. But a mountain of Wild Berry Skittles wouldn’t have cheered Melody up now.

Bee-Bee went to the supply closet, where she kept her stash of candy, and came back a minute later holding a bouquet of Dum Dums in her hand.

“What flavor do you want?” she asked.

“Root beer,” said Teeny, plucking a sucker from the bunch. “And mystery, too,” she added, helping herself to a second Dum Dum, this one with yellow question marks decorating the wrapper.

“What flavor is mystery?” asked Nick.

“Mystery flavor,” said Teeny, pulling off the wrapper and jamming the Dum Dum into her mouth.

“We should get going,” said Melody. “Teeny’s mother might be worried.”

“Mama’s taking a nap,” said Teeny. “And I want to go in the back and see the dog.”

“This isn’t a good time,” said Bee-Bee quickly.

“I just want to pat his head!”

“The answer is no,” said Melody firmly. “Undeniably, indisputably, categorically no. It’s time for us to go.”

Teeny glowered at Melody, then turned and started to make a run for the white door that led to Bee-Bee’s apartment. Only Nick was too quick for her. He scooped her up and tossed her over his shoulder like a wriggling pink sack of potatoes.

“Come on, short stuff,” he said. “We’re outta here.”

Nick carried Teeny outside, but when Melody reached the door, Bee-Bee put a hand out to stop her.

“I wish you’d stay,” she told Melody. “Just for a little while. We need to talk.”

“If it’s about the bowl,” said Melody, “I’m sure my dad will lend me the money to buy you a new one.”

“It’s not about the bowl,” said Bee-Bee.

“Bishop!” Nick called from outside. “Are you coming?”

“Please stay,” said Bee-Bee.

Melody hesitated, then leaned out the door.

“Would you mind taking Teeny home?” she asked Nick. “I’ll meet you back at the house in a little while.”

He didn’t question her. He just nodded. From the way Teeny was looking at him, Melody knew she’d be no trouble at all on the ride home. It was impossible not to like Nick Woo.

Once they were off, Melody closed the door.

“Thank you,” said Bee-Bee. Melody noticed her eyes looked moist again.

“So what did you want to talk to me about?” Melody asked.

“Your mother,” Bee-Bee said.