Leaning around the box, she peeked out through the glass door. She didn’t see anyone on the sidewalk. Several policemen hurried by on the street. A squad car drove off in the opposite direction. She’d lost them. She was alone. She suddenly realized how true that was. I am alone, she thought. Mom’s in the Wild, and I’m alone. Julie felt sick. Putting her head between her knees, she tried to take deep breaths. Cindy and Goldie wouldn’t—or couldn’t—help. And Mom and Grandma were in the Wild. In the Wild! Your father died in there. He died getting us out. But how? Why such secrets? Why such terrible secrets? What had happened? Shouldn’t someone know? Shouldn’t there be a story? Wasn’t that the way Mom had said it worked? Anything that happened in the Wild became a story in the real world, she’d said. So shouldn’t there be some book with the tale of their escape? And wasn’t she in a library? Julie jumped to her feet and ran to the children’s room. The librarian, Linda, smiled and waved at her as she came in.
