When Susannah would drop us off at the mall or the Putt Putt, she would put Conrad in charge every time. She’d say, “Take care of them, Connie. I’m counting on you.”

There was this time we split up at the mall, because the boys wanted to go to the arcade and I didn’t. I was eight. I said I’d meet them in the food court in one hour. I went straight to the glass-blower shop. The boys never wanted to go in the glass-blower shop, but I loved it. I’d wander from counter to counter. I especially liked looking at the glass unicorns. I wanted to buy one, just a little one, but they were twelve dollars. I only had ten. I couldn’t stop looking at the unicorn. I’d pick it up then put it down again then pick it up again. Before I knew it, more than an hour had passed, almost two. I ran back to the food court as fast as I could. I worried the boys had left without me.

When I showed up, Conrad wasn’t there. Jeremiah and Steven were sitting in the Taco Bell section counting their arcade tickets. “Where have you been?” Steven said, looking annoyed.

I ignored him. “Where’s Conrad?” I asked Jeremiah, panting.

“He went off looking for you,” Jeremiah said. To Steven, he said, “Do you want to use our tickets to buy something now or save up a ton for next time?”

“Let’s wait,” Steven said. “The guy told me they’re getting more prizes next week.”

When Conrad came back a little while later to find me sitting with Jeremiah and Steven and eating an ice cream cone, he looked so mad. “Where were you?” he yelled. “You were supposed to be back here at three!”

I could feel a lump in my throat, and I knew I was about to cry. “At the glass-blower shop,” I whispered, my Moose Tracks ice cream dripping in my hand.

“If something happened to you, my mom would have killed me! I’m the one she left in charge.”

“There was this unicorn…”

“Forget it. You’re not coming anywhere with us anymore.”

“No, Conrad! Come on,” I cried, brushing my tears away with my sticky hand. “I’m sorry.”

He felt bad for yelling, I could tell. He sat down next to me and said, “Don’t ever do that again, Belly. From now on, we stick together. Okay?”

“Okay,” I said, sniffling.

For my birthday that August, Conrad gave me a glass unicorn. Not the small one, but the big one that cost twenty dollars. Its horn broke off during one of Jeremiah and Steven’s wrestling matches, but I kept it. I kept it right on top of my bureau. How could I have thrown such a gift away?

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