Haze spotted them the second they walked through the gate—three new kids huddled together by the basketball court. Her heart did its special flip-flop, the one that meant three more friends needed animal buddies. She pulled out her pocket notebook and started drawing three circles, one for each child. Recess ended in twelve minutes. Not enough time for the big oak tree meetings. She grabbed her green notebook with the pink heart and flipped to a fresh page. First kid, second kid, third kid—she wrote their numbers down with careful lines. The tall girl could meet by the swings at 11:47. The boy with glasses at the slide at 11:52. The small one with the yellow jacket by the muddy puddle at 11:57. Three minutes each, just enough to say hello and leave a special note. Haze raced to the supply box behind the jungle gym and pulled out three welcome cards she'd made yesterday. She placed one at each spot, tucking them under rocks so the wind wouldn't steal them. At the swings, she added a handful of birdseed. At the slide, she left a toy mouse for any shy cats. By the muddy puddle, she scattered breadcrumbs for the frogs. Back at the basketball court, she bounced up to the three new students and pointed to the colorful structure she'd built last week from old cardboard boxes—three walls painted like a desert, a mountain, and a beach, all connected in a triangle. "You each get your own special spot to wait!" she announced. "I'm Haze, and I'm going to find you the best animal friends ever!" The tall girl smiled first, then the others followed her to their painted walls.

Haze bounced back toward her cardboard triangle, clutching three juice boxes she'd borrowed from the cafeteria lady. The new kids would be thirsty after waiting in their painted spots. She rounded the corner by the basketball court and stopped. The tall girl's desert wall—empty. The boy's mountain wall—empty. The small one's beach wall—empty. Her welcome cards lay scattered on the ground, torn into pieces. The orange checkmarks she'd painted on each wall to mark the exact waiting spots were smudged, like someone had rubbed them with their hands. Haze picked up a piece of card with half a heart still visible. Her chest felt tight. She'd never had kids leave before meeting their animal buddies. Something colorful peeked out from under the mountain wall. She tugged it free—a fancy map with golden buildings and tiny trees, showing a path from the playground to somewhere that said Royal Ball at the top. Someone had drawn arrows all over it in purple marker. Haze traced the route with her finger. The new kids hadn't just wandered off. They'd gone somewhere specific. She folded the map and tucked it in her pocket next to Princess Patches, who squeaked softly. The three juice boxes felt heavy in her hands. Tomorrow she'd find them. But tonight she needed to figure out why kids would run away from getting animal friends. She walked to the big oak tree and sat down, pulling out her green notebook. On a fresh page, she wrote: Sometimes kids leave before you can help them. Find out why.