“To get good at spelling, I study the speller.”

“Yes, of course, but I still don’t—oh.” Dolly was quiet for a moment, then turned to stare hard at Hanna.

Hanna kept her face still. She knew that Dolly was examining her expression, trying to determine if what she had said was in any way spiteful.

“So that means . . .” Dolly spoke slowly. “That you can see perfectly well. You can see all the words in the speller.”

Her mood shifted yet again, with another giggle. “Well, you have to admit it’s a natural question, your eyes being shaped like that. Smaller and all.”

Hanna could almost hear her patience fraying. “Actually, it’s not really logical, when you think about it. Ned has big eyes, right? Bigger than Albert’s. But no one would ask Albert if he sees worse than Ned.”

Dolly blinked in obvious confusion. Then, “Yes, Ned’s eyes are nice, aren’t they? Don’t you think he’s the handsomest of the boys? But I think Sam would be the most fun to step out with . . .”

And with that, she was off, babbling about the boys.

Hanna allowed herself a moment of grim satisfaction. She had managed to say what she wanted to say.

They walked on toward Main Street. As they neared the corner, Hanna slowed her steps and broke into Dolly’s monologue. “I think I’ll go back now,” she said.

“Don’t you want to look in the shops with me? Sometimes there are new things after the freight train comes through.”

Hanna shook her head. “No, thank you.”

As she turned away, a wagon careered around the corner, so fast and wildly that both girls had to leap out of the way. It rattled and banged to a stop just beyond them.

The man who jumped down from the seat had a red face and a grizzled beard beneath a worn straw hat. He glared at Dolly. “Get in,” he said, his words terse with fury.

Dolly glanced at Hanna and shrugged, but Hanna saw a look of alarm in her eyes. The man reached out, grabbed Dolly by the arm, and practically dragged her to the wagon.

“Pa, you’re hurting me!” Dolly cried out.

“You think that hurts?” he shouted. “Wait until I get you home! You’re lucky I didn’t find you on Main Street! You could have disgraced us in front of the whole town!”

Hanna stood paralyzed. He thinks being seen with me is a disgrace.

She wished she could disappear, simply vanish, like a puff of smoke. She tried to think of Mama—what would she do? What would she say?—but humiliation had emptied her mind.

As Dolly’s father started up the horses, he leaned over the side of the wagon seat and spat. Not at Hanna—but unmistakably toward her. She saw the blob of spit hit the ground.