The wind whipped Riley’s hair, which was bushy brown, not shiny blond like her mom’s and Aunt Gayle’s and Trinity’s. “It’s a pretty color, Riley. Like a movie star’s.”

That’s what Riley imagined her big brother would say about her hair. He would be like her best friend.

The farther she got up the hill, the harder it was to breathe, and the more the wind kept trying to push her back. She wondered if her mom was up there in heaven looking down at her now and maybe trying to figure out how to help her. But if her mom was in heaven, she’d be talking to her friends on the telephone and smoking.

Riley’s legs were burning from where they were rubbing together, and her chest hurt, and if she was going in the right direction, she would have seen the sign by now. Her backpack got so heavy she had to drag it. If she died here, she wondered if a wolf would eat her face before anybody found her, and then maybe nobody would know it was her, Riley Patriot.

She still hadn’t reached the top of the hill when she saw a bent metal sign. CALLAWAY ROAD. It went uphill, too. The blacktop was crumbling at the sides, and she stumbled. Her cords ripped, and she started to cry, but she made herself get up. This wasn’t straight like the other road but had curves that scared her because she didn’t know what was on the other side.

She almost didn’t care if she died now, but she didn’t want a wolf to eat her face, so she kept going. Finally, she got to the top of the hill. She tried to look down and maybe see the farm, but it was too dark. Her toes jammed against the front of her sneakers as she started downhill. Finally, the woods opened up a little, and she saw this wire fence. The wind blew cold against her cheeks, but she was sweaty under her puffy pink jacket. It seemed like she’d already walked a hundred miles. What if she’d walked past the farm and didn’t even know it?

At the bottom of the hill, she saw a shape. A wolf! Her heart hammered. She waited. It felt like it should be morning, but it wasn’t. The shape didn’t move. She took a cautious step forward and then another, getting closer and closer until she saw that it was an old mailbox. Something might be written on the side, but it was too dark to read, and it probably wouldn’t be her brother’s name anyway, since people like her brother and her dad tried not to let everybody know where they lived. Still, it had to be his farm, so she turned in.