Mom exchanged looks with me, gave me a quick hug and a kiss, and then got out to help Becca out of the car. I heard her murmuring comforting words as I pulled our bags out of the trunk.

"Hey, Becca," called Mallory from the front porch. "I'm so glad you're here. We're just about to have a scavenger hunt! Whose team do you want to be on?"

Becca ignored her. She just sobbed harder. My mother looked a little desperate. "We have to get going," she said to me. Then she turned to Becca. "You're going to be just fine. Look, Mallory is waiting for you."

"I don't care!" cried Becca, her voice muffled by Mom's coat. "I'm not staying."

Mom gently pried Becca's arms from around her neck. "I'm sorry, honey, but we have to go now. You be a good girl." She stood up and I took her place with Becca. " 'Bye!" she said, backing away. "I'll bring you a present,

I promise," she added, wanting Becca to smile. Finally, Mom gave up and climbed into the car.

Mallory trotted down the driveway and stood with Becca and me. Becca was still sobbing. "Becca," I said, "I have to go, too. You'll have a lot of fun with Mallory." I hugged her tight and then stood up. "She's all yours," I said to Mallory, with a little smile. "Good luck!"

"Have a great trip," said Mal. "Write me a postcard."

"I'll be back before you get it," I said.

"I know. But write one anyway." She bent to hug Becca.

"See you," I said. " 'Bye, Becca." I headed through the backyard to Stacey's, trying not to hear Becca's sobs. I looked back once and caught a glimpse of her tear-stained face, and then I didn't look again. Poor Becca. She was going to be fine. I knew that. But there was no way to tell her so. She'd just have to find out on her own.

I lugged my overnight bag onto Stacey's porch. My raincoat was slung over my shoulder and another, smaller bag was under one arm. I rang the bell.

"Jessi!" said Stacey, when she answered the door. "How long are you planning to stay in New York, anyway?"