Around dinnertime, a frantic pounding on the door shattered the quiet in our home.When we opened the door, the parents of the three boys were standing outside."Patrick, have you seen our three brats?" Mrs. Burke, Gregory's mother, asked. "My phone calls won't go through!""The CEA is tomorrow! Where on earth did they run off to at such a critical time?" Mr. McFadden, Jeremy's father, asked, stamping his feet in frustration and craning his neck to peer into our house.Dad stood in the doorway like a solid wall, his expression icy."They're not here."The coldness in his voice made them freeze.Mrs. Trudeau, Wendell's mom, pushed her way forward and stared directly at me."Abby, you're usually glued to their sides. Do you know where they went?"I didn't even look up."I really don't know, Mrs. Trudeau," I answered, my voice flat.My indifference immediately made them realize that something was off.Mrs. McFadden frowned, looked me over suspiciously, then turned to my parent
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