She wiped them furiously with the back of her hand. Leaping from the table, Monster wrapped himself around her ankles. She sucked in air, telling herself to stop, stop, stop! Ethan patted her back awkwardly. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Everything’s okay.” “It’s not okay! Don’t say that!” She got herself under control and yanked away from Ethan. Spinning to face the shelves, she clenched her fists and forced herself to take deep, hiccupping breaths until her eyes and nose quit leaking like a broken faucet. “We’ll find them,” Ethan said. “Your parents, I mean.” Sophie wiped her face with her sleeve. “How? Where?” She took another deep breath. There. She had control again. She felt as if her face was lobster-red, and wished Ethan hadn’t seen her freak out. “I don’t know. But don’t . . . cry, okay?” “Okay.” He was silent. Tentatively, he asked, “Are you okay?” “Fine . . . I just . . . I didn’t expect this.” She waved her hand at the empty distiller table, the shelves, and upstairs.
What do You think about The Girl Who Could Not Dream?
