Her father said she was a princess. He did not see that she was a brave knight.

Her father said she was a princess. He did not see that she was a brave knight.

This morning, as Charlotte approached the brick facade of Hartnett, she found herself overcome with a great sense of dread. It hit her with a strange and sudden force, and she had an overwhelming urge to turn back, get into bed and not go out for about three weeks. She stopped in her tracks. The feeling itself was alarming to Charlotte - was she sensing something? Something dangerous? And was it something supernatural or just middle school? Sometimes it was hard to tell the difference.

Now, the world is more than it seems to be. You know this, of course, because you read stories. You understand that there is the surface and then there are all the things that glimmer and shift underneath it. And you know that not everyone believes in those things, that there are people—a great many people—who believe the world cannot be any more than what they can see with their eyes. But we know better.

She understood. They were plastic flowers of words—but they looked nice on the surface.

This is what it is to live in the world. You have to give yourself over to the cold, at least a little bit.

In woods where the woodsmen told lies, maybe it was the wolves who told the truth.