“She found bones washed up down the brook a couple months ago, and she thinks the witch probably kidnapped it for one of her sacrifices.”

That’s a lie, Hlee thought, teeth clenched tight.

“You’re not hiding someone’s pet in your backpack, are you, Hlee?” she called. “Are you her delivery service?”

Their laughter rang through her thoughts long after she’d left them behind. Her hands balled into fists as her heart raced, nostrils flaring with every furious breath.

Hlee had begged her parents to move for years, but they liked Little Nova. They liked the size and the distance from larger cities. The trees, crowned by the peaks of distant mountains, reminded them a little of the country they’d left behind. So Hlee said nothing, simmering in her resentment.

Anything she said in defense of Niam Tais would be turned against her, and the last thing she wanted was to call more attention to herself. It was better to try to be invisible than to invite ridicule for things she couldn’t control.

Ahead, Niam Tais’s house materialized from behind the trees. It was small and leaned a bit to one side. The paint had long since peeled from the door and window frames, exposing old wood that curled away from the walls. Chickens roamed the yard, their coop visible behind a vibrant garden that sat to the right of the house.

Above the door hung a chipped sign that said nyob zoo. Welcome. The sight of it made Hlee’s arms vibrate with renewed anger. Niam Tais embraced what and who she was and made no apologies for it, but Hlee didn’t have the same confidence. Sometimes she wished Niam Tais would be less flagrantly different, given the way she reflected on the rest of the Hmong community and on Hlee.

She stalked past the garden, scattering the chickens, who squawked at her intrusion. The pungent aroma of cilantro, green onions, and lemongrass assaulted her nostrils. Once the house was out of sight, she pressed her back against a tree and tossed her backpack into the dirt.

She sank to the soft earth, her hair snagging against rivets of bark that tugged sharply at her scalp. Although the sun had only just begun to set, the moon was already visible through the branches. It was nearly full, milky and stark against the purpling sky.

Because she was looking up, she saw the exact moment when a shock of silver streaked through the sky, brief and brilliant. Her eyes widened. Before she’d even consciously decided, she made a wish.

Please . . . please let me find where I belong. There has to be more than this.