“Well,” I say, sneering at the panting furball, “Then maybe we’ll just run away together and figure out who put you up to this secret trans girl cover-up.” Riley mouths a breathless ‘no’ to herself. “Isn’t that right, Biscuit? Just a confused, lonely girl and her mangy dog walking the roads, hitching rides…scrounging for scraps—”

“—It was you!” she cries, snatching back her supersized lap dog, “Happy now? You made me promise not to tell you!”