Mom ran to the bottom of the steps.

“His window’s open,” said Circa. “And his backpack’s not there. I even looked out across the backyard in case he was hiding, but none of the grass is smushed.”

“He had to have climbed down the trellis,” Mom said. “Why in the world would he do that?”

“Come on,” said Circa. “We’ve got to go find him.”

Mom grabbed tight to the banister. “Circa,” she said. “It’s late. For all we know, he’s been gone for a while now. I don’t think we should go driving around hollering for somebody at this hour.”

“Of course you don’t,” snapped Circa. “You’d say that no matter what time it was.”

“Circa, that’s not fair. You know I’ve gone above and beyond my own comfort time and again to make sure Miles is okay.”

“So then why would you stop now?” Circa said. “When it’s prickly?”

“That’s not fair, Circa,” said Mom. “Think about it. Miles has run away from places before. He’ll be okay. And he knows the way back here.”

“But you said yourself how much he means to us.”

“And I meant it,” said Mom.

“But how can you be so sure? Can’t we just—”

“No, Circa,” said Mom, her voice shaking. “What you’ve got to understand is that Miles handles his fears by leaving. And I handle mine by staying. And neither of us is right.”

“But I don’t understand,” said Circa.

“If he’s not back by the morning, we’ll call and report it to the police,” Mom said as she watched anxiously out the front room window. “I just can’t figure why he’d run again,” she said. “It had to be for a reason. Maybe he was listening in on my phone call or something?”

Circa sat on the top step and put her head on her knees. “I know the reason,” she said.

“What is it?” said Mom. “Do you think he’s remembered something?”

“No,” said Circa. “He’s gone because of how I treated him.”

“How could you say that?” said Mom. “You’ve been nothing but kind to Miles since he got here.”

“Until tonight,” said Circa. She could still see the dirt on the steps from Miles’s first day there. Aching inside, Circa stood back up and went to her room.

“Hey, Circ,” called Mom from below. “Don’t blame yourself for this. Miles is a troubled boy, but he’s also a survivor. I’m sure he’ll be all right.”

“I hope so,” mumbled Circa, closing her bedroom door behind her. Tempted to climb down her pine tree and go search for Miles herself, Circa headed straight for the window and opened it wide, only to discover that her escape would be impossible. For there on the best climbing branch sat that big, clumsy nest, and there in that nest now wriggled three newly hatched baby birds. Taking a bit of comfort in their company, Circa pulled up a chair and joined the tiny family at the window, quietly waiting and hoping for her friend to return.

She stayed there and watched for hours, even after the hard windowsill made her elbows ache. Because sometimes doing the right thing prickles a little, she heard her dad say. She longed for him to tell her that it was way past her bedtime. All the while, the constant peeping of the nuthatches made her feel terrible about being ugly to Nattie, and she wondered if Nat would ever share a honeysuckle with her again. But mostly, she wondered if she would ever get to see Miles again.

To drown out her own thinking, Circa tried again and again to sing softly the song Dad loved, but each time, the opening words of it proved almost too much to bear.

It’s way past midnight. Everyone’s asleep.

Outside the window it’s quiet on the street.

By the third attempt, Circa was nearly at her wit’s end with sadness and guilt. In desperation, she looked to the sky and began to mutter a prayer like any other.

“Oh, Lord,” she said tearfully, “Keep your eye on my friends.”

Then, suddenly, a shadowy figure approached on the street below.

Mary Jo would hereafter be famous for dredging up the long-lost key to love and happiness. Someday she would even polish up the key and pass it along to her grandchildren. But for today, for this one shining moment, she was just plain giddy to be wearing that glorious jellyfish hat.