I never understood this before, but these days I hardly get through breakfast without thinking about running, like Dead End, from the think and sticky sadness that stains every inch of our home.
"Dead End does have a mind of his own," Cub says low.
"That doesn't make him a bad dog," I snap. "Maybe it makes him a smart dog."

Twelve-year-old Dill is desperately trying to keep her family from falling apart. Her father is always at work, her mother is gone, and their dog, Dead End, seems to be here one moment and missing the next. And big trouble is brewing....