“Does Bitsy live close by now? Do you still see each other all the time?” Nancy asked before biting into a Nilla wafer cookie. Now with the interview over, refreshments were being served in the clubhouse.

Mrs. DeVine shook her head. “I’m afraid we lost touch ages ago. Her family moved when we were about twelve. We tried staying in touch, but once we weren’t neighbors or going to the same school, well”—Mrs. DeVine shrugged her shoulders—“it just wasn’t the same.”

Bree was drinking pink lemonade out of a teacup. She gulped and sputtered, “That’s so terrible. To lose your best friend!”

Nancy felt the exact same way.

“We didn’t have a falling-out or anything. We just drifted apart. Bitsy had new friends. So did I. We didn’t have much in common anymore.”

“When was the last time you saw each other?” Nancy asked.

“Why, it was so long ago, I don’t even remember.” Mrs. DeVine pursed her lips, which were Passionately Red. That was the name of the lipstick she always wore. “Oh, I do know. We bumped into each other at a clothing store. We both had our eyes on the same prom dress. So that had to be . . .” Mrs. DeVine paused and started ticking off years on her fingers. Her long fingernails were Passionately Red too. “Well, I can’t believe it, but it must have been nearly fifty years ago!”

Nancy and Bree exchanged identical looks. They were way more than surprised. They were stupefied. “But you were best friends. And—and you both liked the same exact dress. That proves you still had stuff in common,” Nancy said. The longest she and Bree had gone without seeing each other was four weeks last summer, when both their families took two-week vacations and the weeks didn’t overlap. Even with email and phone calls, it had seemed like forever. An eternity.

“Bitsy was a wonderful girl. I remember her with great fondness,” Mrs. DeVine went on. “There’s a special closeness with your first best friend. Now, scoot a little closer. I’m sure there are pictures of Bitsy in here.” Mrs. DeVine opened the red spiral-bound album that she’d brought over.

“That’s yours truly!” Mrs. DeVine laughed, pointing to a photo of a girl on a swing.

“No way!” Bree cried. “I never would have guessed.”

Nancy wouldn’t have either. It was hard to imagine the girl in the photo who had dark braids and wore eyeglasses turning into their glamorous neighbor with her platinum-blond hair and false eyelashes.

“There. That’s Bitsy with me at a county fair.”

In the photo, Bitsy stood half a head taller than Mrs. DeVine, only she wasn’t Mrs. DeVine back then, Nancy realized. She was called Margie, which was short for Marjorie. The girls had their arms around each other and, in their free hands, they held paper cones of cotton candy. Their mouths were wide-open, as if they’d just heard the punch line to a really funny joke.

Although the photo showed two happy friends, it made Nancy sad to look at it. And what did Mrs. DeVine mean about having a “first best friend”? A best friend was forever. Nancy looked over at Bree, who was turning the pages of the album. Sure, sometimes they got into fights, but they loved each other.

“Mrs. DeVine, what if Nancy and I tried tracking Bitsy down for you? Imagine seeing each other after all these years.”

Yes! Finding a missing person! How thrilling that would be. “We have excellent sleuthing skills,” Nancy added. “We figured out who stole something valuable from our classroom, and we did it by cleverly following clues.” Nancy hoped that didn’t sound like she was bragging. But she and Bree were sharp detectives. The only problem was that there hadn’t been any crimes lately. Finding a missing person wasn’t like a robbery. Still, it was mysterious.

It was obvious, however, that Mrs. DeVine didn’t take their offer seriously. “Oh no. I wouldn’t know where to tell you to start looking. Bitsy might be anywhere on the planet.”

As soon as Mrs. DeVine left the clubhouse, Nancy turned to Bree. “Hold up your hand. We have to take a solemn oath. We have to promise we’ll always stay best friends.”

Bree raised her hand. “Yes, we’ll never lose touch, even if you are living on the North Pole and I end up at the South Pole.”

Then, just to be doubly sure, they pinkie locked on it.