Next time we see you, you’ll be on trial for some ingenious crime!” Dottie said with a laugh. Evie grinned. “Just as long as they know my name.

The man in the shop peered disapprovingly at Evie through the glass. She pumped her arms and legs up and down in imitation of a marching band, gave the man a salute, and continued her meandering walk to the museum.

But aren't many gardens beautiful because they are imperfect?...aren't the strange, new flowers that arise by mistake or misadventure as pleasing as the well-tended and planned?

Goodbye," I whisper at last, when it no longer matters and there is no one to hear it but the window.

Might. Is there any opiate more powerful than that word?

Just once, she'd like to be the exciting one, the girl somebody wanted.

The night's chilly breath tickles up my neck and finds my ear, whispering secrets only the wind knows.