Caleb didn't hesitate when he jumped over the fence. He had to slip past the guards in the school yard. He wasn't careful — on the contrary, he didn't care, even if they saw him and he got in trouble. But he got lucky: the guards were far more interested in their crossword puzzles than in watching over stubborn kids trying to ditch school. He landed in the bushes with a soft thud. His hands got scratched up, his legs were covered in dirt, but he didn't even notice.

His stomach twisted with worry when, during the whole half-hour break, she never showed up at their usual spot. Caleb had thought about it before: maybe he worried too much. Maybe it really could be called that ugly word — "overprotective," which he hated... but he couldn't help it. wasn't at school. She wasn't answering her phone. And worst of all — she hadn't told him anything. That had never happened before. That should never have happened. No, Caleb wasn't one of those anxious kids who panic over nothing. But not when it came to the most important person in his life. The one who still made his nightmares so terrifying.

Caleb ran as fast as he could, even passing kids on their bikes. Josephine wasn't home yet, and the thought that if something really was wrong, no one would be there to help her made his heart clench painfully. He pushed open the door to her room. He was already starting to panic, afraid it was empty — but then he heard it: a quiet, muffled sound coming from under the blanket.

"Pipsqueak?.."