CHAPTER 19

The next person we investigated was Mr. Martin, following

Daniel had decided we should watch the custodian during lunchtime so that we could set a We had started the day we made our suspect list, and soon learned that his routine went like clockwork. The important part for our plan was that every day at 1:20 he went to the old shed on the edge of our playground to return the broom and mop he’d used in the morning.

On Friday, we were ready to put our plan into action. I felt really nervous—the mosque’s deadline was coming up, and we still had no idea whether we would find the culprit.

At 1:15, Daniel quickly ran over to the shed while Charlie and I kept watch. He left his Batman wallet just outside the shed door so Mr. Martin couldn’t miss it. It had $5 in it, too. Daniel knew this was a big risk, because he might not get his money back, but he said he was happy to do it if we could find the thief.

Daniel ran back to us with his eyes all       and we all went to sit next to the tree that would give us the best view of the shed without looking suspicious.

“So,” Charlie said, “if he keeps the wallet, he’s dishonest and he’s probably the one who did it.”

“Exactly,” said Daniel, rubbing his hands together and licking his lips. He was really getting into this spying job!

Just a couple of minutes later, Mr. Martin appeared. For a second, we thought he hadn’t seen the wallet and we all held our breath while we waited to see what he’d do. Was our plan ruined? But after he put the broom and the mop away, he picked it up and looked around in a

like he was searching for who could have dropped it and whether they’d seen him find it.

We all made big eyes at each other.

But that afternoon in math, there was a knock on the door, and Mr. Martin came in looking worried. He’d been going around to all the classes to ask if anyone had lost their wallet.

Daniel made a big show of being really relieved to have it back and said about ten times. For a second, my tummy felt like it was scrunching itself up into a marble-size ball, but Charlie squeezed my hand and whispered,

He was right. Maybe the trick had been worth it, because now Mr. Martin was officially off the suspect list. It didn’t really make my tummy feel better, though, and all this ruling out of people made me   because it made it more likely that it could be Maryam. It did seem like she had a very strong reason for doing it . . . I kept thinking of her objective:

I had to find out once and for all, so when Maryam went to take a shower that evening, I crept into her room. If she had done it, the money would still be there, because she wouldn’t have been able to spend it or donate it to the mosque fund without causing suspicion.

I started with her dresser, slowly sliding each drawer open, hoping not to see a bunch of cash, and just then:

It was Maryam. She had come back to get her special girly shower gel that she keeps in her bedroom so no one uses it by accident.

“How dare you? This is the last straw! You’re such an annoying and I’m telling Dad!” she threatened.

Then I did something that Maryam hadn’t expected me to do. And I hadn’t really expected to do. I threw myself into her big sister arms and cried.

“I’m sorry,” I sobbed through snot and tears. “I just had to see if you took it, because I’m desperate and I’m sad and I’m worried and my tummy won’t stop hurting.”

Maryam hugged me back and told me to sit down. “I would never do that to you, Omar . . . Yes, I do call you names and tease you and things. And you get on my nerves

but still, you’re my only brother.”

That made us both laugh.

“Seriously,” she said. “I would never actually do anything that made you or Esa sad for real. I promise.”

I believed her. Because her hug felt real and not even Maryam can lie that well. I gave her one more hug and crossed her off our list.