Page 85 - My FlipBook

T R A I L O F C R U M B S

She stopped abruptly at the end of the street, the thought
coming before the words formed.
“What?” Ash asked, his mouth stiff and tight.
“Our bus passes expired on Friday—the end of January.
We can’t take the bus.”
They stood in silence, each one following that thought to
a dead end. They didn’t have money to replace both passes.
Only one. And even one would take all their money. No way

they could walk to school—not even with all the pom-pom
tuques in the world. The air pierced their skin through their
jeans, numbing their thighs.
“Let’s go back,” Greta said.
“I can’t feel any part of me.” Ash nodded and strode back
toward their house. Greta jogged to keep up. Then Ash started
to jog, and she fell farther behind, each step shooting sparks

through her numb toes. Her boots seemed made of paper.
Inside the basement, Ash fell against the closed door and
gasped, suffocated by the cold. He blew on his fingers and
pressed his palms to his ears.
Greta flopped on the couch, thick in her winter gear,
before bolting up again. “What about Nate? We could ask him
for a ride.”
Ash’s eyes flickered toward Nate’s house and the evil
outdoors. “Yeah. Okay. Just a sec.”

“I’ll go catch him.” Greta charged up the steps and found
Nate in his driveway, attempting to start his yellow Volvo.
The car made a thick chug sound before dying. Then
again. The third time, something caught and the motor

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