Sienna thought about the Girl Scout Law. Honest and fair. Friendly and helpful. Considerate and caring. It wasn’t a checklist. It was a tightrope.

“You found it,” Cora said. Not a question.

Suspects. Motives. Truth.

At sixteen, she was the oldest girl in Troop 909, a band of mismatched Brownies and Juniors who still believed the biggest adventure was finding a lost compass. But Sienna had earned her Silver Award, kept her uniform pressed, and never once broken the promise she’d made in the flicker of flashlight and candle wax: On my honor, I will try.

She turned and walked home under a cold October moon. The splinter under her nail still ached. But for the first time all week, she wasn’t trying to dig it out.

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:

On my honor, I will try.

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