The teacher wrote those two states on the board as well. Freddie’s family had come to LaForge from Chicago.

Chicago! From the mild stirring in the room, Hanna could tell that the other students were as impressed as she was by the mention of that enormous city.

Miss Walters smiled. “Freddie, would you like to tell us something you remember about Chicago?”

“The rail yard,” Freddie answered at once. “There was so many trains—”

“Were, Freddie. There were so many trains.”

Freddie looked surprised. “You seen them too, miss?”

Miss Walters quickly covered her mouth with her hand to hide her amusement. “No, Freddie, I haven’t. I was correcting your grammar. Thank you, Pearl and Freddie. Matthew, perhaps you will tell us a little more about Chicago when it’s your turn.” Miss Walters nodded at an older boy, who must have been Freddie’s brother.

Each class took its turn. The Third Reader class included a girl named Sadie, who was Bess Harris’s younger sister. By the time the Fourth Reader class was finished, there were seven states on the board—Wisconsin, Nebraska, Iowa, and New York had joined the list. A girl named Louisa had once visited New York City. A boy named Henry had found fossils on the shoreline of Lake Superior. And Freddie’s brother, Matthew, told how they had once seen fifty trains in one day.

Gasps from around the room, and a Third Reader boy raised his hand.

“Miss, he must mean fifty cars, right? Fifty railroad cars, not fifty trains.”

Matthew shook his head firmly. “Trains. Freddie was counting cars at first, but there were so many, it got so he couldn’t count high enough, and then I said we should count trains instead. And it wasn’t even the whole day, just the morning.”

Fifty trains in a single morning! LaForge had only two trains a day, one each in the morning and afternoon, although Papa had told Hanna the railway company was supposed to be increasing the number soon.

“Fifth Reader class to the front, please,” Miss Walters announced.

Hanna’s pulse quickened. It did not seem possible that she could stand in front of the whole school, but staying seated would be worse: It would attract just as much attention and be disobedient as well.

The Fifth Reader class was the largest, five girls, three boys. As Hanna walked toward the front of the room, her stomach was so cold she could hardly breathe. At this moment, many of the students were getting their first really good look at her. She felt their stares, heard the rustles as they shifted in their chairs and nudged their seatmates. A fog of suspicion and hostility seemed to surround her. When she reached the space in front of the teacher’s desk, she meant to stand there proudly, with her head high, but somehow she ended up staring at the floor.

Miss Walters did not waste a single moment.