“You broke the promise,” Sienna said quietly. Not cruel. Just factual. Like reciting the outdoor code. Be careful with fire. Leave no trace.
Sienna closed her notebook. “Then you know what you have to do. You tell Mrs. Albright yourself. Tomorrow. At the meeting.” sienna rae scouts honor
“You found it,” Cora said. Not a question. “You broke the promise,” Sienna said quietly
So when Mrs. Albright pulled her aside after the fall jamboree and whispered that the troop’s treasury was missing—two thousand dollars raised from ten years of car washes and cookie sales—Sienna didn’t panic. She pulled out her field notebook, the one with the duct-taped spine, and wrote three words at the top of a fresh page: Like reciting the outdoor code
Try. Not succeed. Not fix. Try.
Cora opened the door in a faded hoodie, her eyes already red.
The pledge wasn’t just words to Sienna Rae. It was a splinter lodged beneath her fingernail—small, sharp, and impossible to ignore.
