The next morning I am awake, up, and dressed before anybody in the house. I’m actually surprised that I was able to sleep at all.

I’m dressed in my dumb old blue-and-white school uniform, waiting at the kitchen table, when Mom comes downstairs to fix breakfast.

“Oh, my!” she says. “You surprised me.”

“Can we go early, Mom? Please?”

“You need to eat breakfast first, Sassy. But I promise I’ll get you there as quickly as I can.”

She pours me a glass of orange juice, but I just sip it.

“Your hair is a mess,” Mom says. “Hand me your brush so I can tame it a little.”

“My brush is in my Sassy Sack,” I reply glumly.

“Oh, yes. I forgot. Sorry, Sassy.” She starts to scramble some eggs. I feel like those eggs this morning — all scrambled and runny and broken.

Sadora comes into the kitchen next. She goes to high school and gets to wear whatever she wants to school. Today she’s wearing a short gold skirt, yellow leggings, and an orange sweater. She looks like sunlight to me.

“Hey, Little Sister,” she says as she pours juice for herself. “I’m so sorry about your sack. But you’ll get it back this morning, and that Sassy smile will come back to your face.”

I try to smile for her. As older sisters go, she’s pretty cool. She just got her driver’s license, and sometimes Mom will let her drive me and my friends to the mall. Sometimes she even gives me extra spending money when we get there.

Then Sabin and Zero bound into the kitchen. “Hey, Sassy! Can I get a candy bar? How about a Band-Aid for my pinkie finger? You got a couple of pencils I can hold till school gets out? And maybe some paper clips for my project?” Then my brother laughs and tries to tickle me.

I just glare, then throw my toast at him. He knows all that stuff is in my bag. He ducks, and Zero makes a perfect catch, gobbling the toast in one swallow.

“Don’t worry, Little Sister. You’ll be cool soon when you’ve got that thing slung across your chest once more. I don’t know how you even keep up with all that junk in there!”

“Sabin, don’t tease your sister,” Mom says. “Suppose you lost something very special to you.”

“It’s not lost!” I tell Mom. “It’s just locked up in the auditorium.” I get up from the table. “I’m waiting in the car.”

Sabin actually forgets most of his stuff every day. He finally gets in the car after he has to run back into the house for his sneakers, his lunch, and his violin. I don’t say anything. I just want them to hurry up.

When we finally get to my school, Mom goes with me to the office.

“We’re trying to find a lost item that was left in the auditorium yesterday,” Mom explains to the secretary. “My daughter’s purse.”

It is so much more than a purse to me, but I don’t say anything.

“Not a problem, ma’am,” she replies. “Everything is unlocked now and ready for the school day. Feel free to go and get what you need.”

We head down the hall and around the corner toward the auditorium. The bell has not yet rung for class. Lots of kids are in the hall, talking or reading or playing video games. Travis rolls by in those tennis shoes with built-in wheels. He waves as he passes us.

I feel funny walking with my mother. I wonder if kids think I’m in trouble.

When we get to the lobby of the auditorium, I can see a small black area on the floor where the fire had been. Everything else has been swept clean.

Mom pulls open the door. The auditorium lights are on, and it looks exactly as we’d left it. The video player is still in the middle row, Rusty’s science book is on the floor where he’d dropped it, and two hula hoops lay on the stage. I run full speed down the aisle to the front row. I could have beaten Travis on his shoe skates.

I’m smiling before I even get to the front of the auditorium. I reach the front row and extend my hands to grab that bag. But it’s not there. It’s not there!

I look under the seats. Nothing. I check the next row. Nothing. My heart is starting to beat really fast.

Mom approaches me and asks, “Where is it, Sassy?”

I’m almost afraid to answer. “I don’t know, Mom. It’s not where I left it!”

I check under every single seat in every single row in the auditorium. My hands and the knees of my slacks get filthy. Mom helps. She checks the stage area, backstage, even the dressing room and the room where they keep costumes for the drama class.

But my Sassy Sack is not to be found. It’s gone.

“Mom!” I gasp. “What am I going to do?” I’m trying not to cry, but I am very close.

Mom puts her arm around my shoulders. “Let’s go back to the office,” she says gently. “We’ll let them know it’s missing.”

Missing! My sack is missing. Gone. Hiding. Lost. Maybe stolen. I think I might throw up.

When we get back to the office, the secretary, Mrs. Starr, looks up from her computer. “Did you find what you were looking for?” she asks with a pleasant smile.

“No, we didn’t,” Mom replies. “My daughter’s purse was left in the auditorium yesterday in all the confusion of the fire. But it is not there now. We searched everywhere. It’s just not there.”

Mrs. Starr looks a little concerned but she says, “I’m sure it will turn up. Describe it for me so I can be on the lookout if it gets turned in to our lost-and-found box.”

I think about the dirty gym shoes and torn hoodies and unwashed T-shirts that collect in that lost-and-found box. I can’t bear the thought of my sack being tossed in there.

“What’s your name, sweetie?” Mrs. Starr asks. She picks up a yellow pencil.

“Sassy,” I manage to say. “Sassy Simone Sanford.”

“And what grade are you in?”

“Fourth.”

Mrs. Starr continues to write. “And you say you lost your purse? Can you describe it?”

Of course I can describe it! Grown-ups ask the silliest questions.

“It’s purple,” I say in a small voice. “And pink, magenta, and silver. It’s made of lots of different fabrics. And it’s got sparkles on it — sequins and gems.”

I touch the place on my hip where my sack should be. I almost feel naked without it.

Mrs. Starr looks up. “I’ve seen you in the halls with that bag, dear. I’ve always admired it. I thought you’d lost an ordinary purse.”

“My grandmother made it for me. There is no other purse like it in the whole world.” I gulp.

Mom puts her arm around my shoulders again. “We’ll find it, Sassy,” she assures me.

“Can you tell me what was in it?” Mrs. Starr asks.

“A million things,” I tell her. “Gum, pens, nail polish, lotion, lip gloss, jewelry, glue, batteries, mirror, tape.” I pause. “Everything I need is in there.”

“And everything anyone else needs as well,” Mom adds. “Sassy’s sack seems to hold the perfect solution for whatever is needed. It’s a treasure trove.”

“Was there any money in the bag?” Mrs. Starr asks.

“I think I had two quarters and a nickel in my change purse. I care more about the purse. It has my name on it.”

Mrs. Starr smiles. “Was there anything of value in the bag, Sassy?”

“Well, I’m the stage manager for the spring concert, and I had several mini iPods in there. Mr. Wood takes them out of the cabinet and gives them to me. I give them to the performers and we put everything back after practice. But we had to leave early. So the music players are still in my bag.”

“Hmm,” says Mrs. Starr as she scribbles. “Is there anything else in the bag that you want me to be aware of?”

“Yes,” I say slowly. “My instrument is in my bag. I’ve already missed one lesson. I don’t want to miss another.”

I feel sniffly and I need a tissue, but, of course, my tissues are in my sack.

“What musical instrument is small enough to fit into a purse?” asks Mrs. Starr.

“I play the piccolo. It’s little, just like me.”

Mom says, “What else can be done to help locate the bag, Mrs. Starr?”

“I’ll ask all the custodians if they’ve seen it, and I’ll send an e-mail to everyone on staff,” she tells Mom. “Your bag will turn up, Sassy,” Mrs. Starr says in a kind voice. “As soon as it does, I’ll call you down to the office, okay?”

“Okay.” But I’m still feeling pretty scared. Where could it be?

Mrs. Starr gives me a pass to get to class, and Mom hugs me once more before she leaves.

The day drags on. I can’t laugh at Travis even though he bumps into a wall with those wheeled shoes. I can’t concentrate on my math. And I sure can’t eat lunch.

When it’s time for choir, I walk in slowly and sadly.

Mr. Wood says, “I got the e-mail Mrs. Starr sent this morning, Sassy. I went back and searched the auditorium again. I’m so sorry, but I could not find your bag.”

My shoulders slump.

“What about the iPods?” I ask him.

“We’ll do without them today. I have all the music saved on a zip drive, so we’ll be okay until your bag shows up.”

“You think it will?”

“I sure hope so,” he says.

He continues, and I go over my notes on my clipboard. But my heart is not in it. I listen to the songs, but they sound gray to me today instead of bright and colorful.

No construction sounds interrupt us today.

It’s almost time for the bell. Mr. Wood is giving directions. The door opens, and Bike walks in.

“Hello, Bike,” Mr. Wood says. “Thanks for the peace and quiet today.”

Bike grins. “After all the problems caused by the fire yesterday, my boss said we work in student areas only after every child has left the building.”

“Great idea. That probably should have been the rule from the beginning,” Mr. Wood says.

Bike turns to leave, then says, “Oh, I almost forgot!” He removes a leather backpack he’d been wearing. “Did anybody leave this in the auditorium yesterday?” He looks directly at me and grins. “I found it after everyone left, and I locked it up for safekeeping.”

From the backpack he pulls my beautiful, incredible bag. I squeal with excitement and run over to him.

“My sack! You found my Sassy Sack!”

“Sure is a pretty thing,” Bike says as he hands it to me. “I bet my daughter would love to have one just like it.”

As I take it from him, I touch it gently. I breathe deeply as I sling it over my shoulder and across my chest. I peek inside. Everything is still there. Including my piccolo. And the iPods.

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” I whisper. “Thank you so much.”