Runner Rabbit ran because running kept the bill collector's fist behind him. This morning that fist belonged to a red-faced man named Vincent Dupley, who chased him across the grass waving a crumpled bill. "You owe money, rabbit!" Vincent shouted. Runner's back foot kicked up a burst of speed, his ears flapping flat behind him. He could outrun any man. He could not outrun the debt itself. He dove into his burrow and pressed his back to the earthen wall. His chest heaved. Outside, Vincent slammed the bill against the ground and stomped off, promising to return. Runner stared at the rounded entrance. He didn't even know how much he owed. Bills came, and he ran instead of opening them. His cousin Rita waited inside, sitting on the packed dirt in her purple dress. She had asked to see his money troubles a week ago. She was clever with numbers, and calm where he was not. "Show me what you owe," Rita said again. "I can help you plan. But I need to see it all." Runner's ears drooped. "I don't have a record. I never opened them." He pointed to a corner of the burrow. A pile of envelopes sat there, some torn, some sealed, some chewed at the edges. "That's all of it. I think." Rita looked at the heap and did not sigh. She knelt and spread the envelopes across the floor. "Then we make the record now," she said. "One by one. You read me the numbers. I'll write them down." Runner wanted to bolt. His foot twitched toward the entrance. But Rita held out a torn envelope and waited, patient. He took it. His paws shook as he pulled out the paper. "Twelve," he read. "For the carrot cart." "Twelve," Rita repeated, and marked it. "Next." They worked through the pile. Runner read each one aloud, even the ones that scared him. Rita wrote every number in a neat column. Some bills were small. Two were much larger than he feared. His stomach knotted when he saw the biggest. At last the floor was clear. Rita drew a line and added the column. She turned the paper so he could see. "This is what you owe," she said. "All of it. No more guessing." Runner stared at the total. It was a hard number, bigger than he'd hoped. But it sat still on the page. It could not chase him anymore. For the first time, he knew exactly what he faced. "Now I can advise you," Rita said. She tapped the largest bill. "But this one has a date. It's past due. Vincent works for the man who holds it." She looked up. "He'll come back tomorrow for this one first." Runner's foot lifted, ready to run. Then he set it down. Tomorrow, he would have to face Vincent with a plan instead of speed.