Wonder Light by R. R. Russell Page A

the office chair rolling into the wall, and she ducked under Mrs. Murley’s arm and ran for her bedroom.
    A minute later Mrs. Murley came in and shut the door softly behind her. “Twig?”
    Twig’s head was buried in her pillow, but she felt Mrs. Murley sink onto the bed beside her.
    â€œOh, Twig.” She brushed her hair with her hand. “I’m sorry. He just messaged me. I knew I should’ve talked to you first, but he insisted. He was afraid you’d say no again if I asked. You haven’t spoken to him in months, Twig…I’m sorry.”
    Twig turned her face slightly to the side and peeked at Mrs. Murley through her tangles. She’d pulled her neat ponytail out at the same time she’d thrown herself onto the bed. How could she explain why she couldn’t talk to him now? Now that he knew she’d turned bad like Mom. Now that he’d let Keely send her away.
    â€œMaybe sometime,” Mrs. Murley said tentatively, “you could tell me about your dad. He misses you. You could write him a letter instead.”
    Twig shoved her face back into the pillow. He didn’t miss this Twig. He missed the little girl she used to be.
    â€œOr just draw a picture?”
    Twig lifted her head. Daddy had loved her drawings when she was small, when things were different. But she was too old for crayons and drippy paintings now.
    â€œThose sketches you did for our botany study were beautiful, Twig. I’ll bet your dad would love to see something like that.”
    â€œI wouldn’t have to say anything?”
    â€œNot a word.” Mrs. Murley smiled. “A picture is worth a thousand, and all that.”

Chapter 19
    Rain Cloud let out an impatient breath, making Twig’s hair tickle the back of her neck.
    â€œBe good. I’m almost done.” Twig patted him absently, then went back to darkening the shadows beneath the wild violets she was sketching at the edge of the meadow.
    Maybe she’d send this one to Daddy too. Yesterday she’d gotten a letter from him, telling her he’d gotten her drawings, all of plants growing on the island. She’d felt like the old Twig he’d loved.
    But was that who she was anymore? One day he’d come back and he’d realize she was still the snapped-in-half Twig. The Twig that had seen and done too many bad things. Then what?
    â€œAaah!” a shriek from the edge of the woods interrupted the quiet footsteps and laughter of the girls in the meadow, the nickers and tail swishes of their ponies. “Look!” Taylor said.
    Twig dropped her sketchbook and plunged through the ferns with Mrs. Murley and the other girls.
    â€œEw!” Janessa scrunched her eyes shut.
    Mandy reached for Casey’s hand. Regina looked pale.
    At their feet were the remains of a raccoon. But that wasn’t all. Around it, the brush had been trampled. Leaves were marked with blood.
    â€œWhat do you think did it?” Taylor asked Mrs. Murley.
    â€œMaybe we have a mountain lion here on the island,” Mrs. Murley said.
    Stomach churning, Twig bent down and examined the ground. It wasn’t marred by paw prints; it was gouged with the distinctive pattern of hooves—cloven hooves. Taylor knelt next to her.
    â€œA deer?” She looked questioningly at Twig.
    Twig shrugged, but her heart was pounding. She took a big step back. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
    â€œYeah,” Regina said. “This is gross.”
    Twig ran for the open sky and the tall meadow grass. She stuffed her sketchbook in her backpack and mounted Rain Cloud.
    Maybe when they got back, she’d try to slip away to Ben’s hollow and look for him again. She’d only checked for him there once and found the hollow empty. Then she’d worried that she would be followed there and he’d be discovered.
    The hungry howls had died down after the night Wild Light was born, but they’d come back a few