Free Why the Star Stands Still (Gives Light Series) by Rose Christo

and took the pager from my hand.
     
    "Just dial '1'," I said.  "Could you take Charity home?"
     
    "Be safe," Dad said.  He gave me back my pager and took Charity's hand.
     
    I trekked across the woods at a run.  All the same, I couldn't stop wondering what I had done wrong.  I think that's natural during a crisis.  Not that this was a crisis.  She's fine, I kept telling myself.  She's fine.
     
    Until I came across the forest den, and the enormous black bear crouching slowly from its opening, sniffing at the air--rising on hind legs.
     
    "What--what should I do?" Michaela said.  She wasn't moving.  She must have been paralyzed with fear.
     
    "Just stay there," I said, my heart pounding in my chest.
     
    "Play dead, right?"
     
    "No," I said.  "If she thinks you're dead, she's more likely to eat you.  Just stand very still, okay?  Don't raise your voice or you'll scare her.  Don't run or she'll think you're prey."
     
    I wanted very badly to grab Michaela, but another step closer might rouse the bear's suspicion.  So I stood still--almost afraid to breathe--and I kept my eyes on the both of them.
     
    The bear dropped down on all fours.  She picked up on our scent and stalked closer.  My heart was working overtime in my chest, burning and painful.
     
    "It's okay," Rafael said.
     
    I chanced a look over my shoulder.  He approached us very slowly, his hunting spear in his hands.
     
    "The both of you back up."
     
    I reached for Michaela's arm and drew her backwards just as Rafael stepped forward.  The simultaneous movement confused the bear.  The bear paused in her pursuit.  Her beady black eyes shifted from Michaela to Rafael.
     
    Rafael was very still, perfectly calm, save for the extending of his spear.  Experimentally, the bear swiped at the spear.  Her padded paw caught on the iron spearhead.
     
    She moaned with surprise--and probably a little pain.  She turned her back on us and took off at a sprint.
     
    Rafael didn't say a word.  He jerked his head at us, a nerve working alongside his taut jaw.  He led us on the walk back to the house, my hand tight around Michaela's.
     
    We'd barely walked through the front door when Rafael spun on Michaela, fury in his dark eyes, fury on his dark face.
     
    "What the hell were you thinking?"
     
    It's not very often that Rafael shows real anger.  When he does, it's not pretty.  I guess Michaela must have been used to angry adults, though; she didn't even flinch.
     
    "Michaela?" I said.
     
    "You said not to go there," Michaela said.  "Near the bears."
     
    I tried to keep the weariness from my voice.  "That's right.  So why did you do it?"
     
    "To see if you would come for me."
     
    I didn't know what to say.
     
    "You could have been killed," Rafael went on.  "Sky could have been killed.  Did you even think about that?"
     
    Reluctantly, Michaela shook her head.
     
    "Are you going to do this again?"
     
    Again, she shook her head.
     
    "I don't believe you," he said.  "I don't want you playing outside anymore."
     
    Michaela lifted her head.  "But--!"
     
    "Rafael..." I said.
     
    "Don't give me that crap," he said to me.  "I don't trust her.  Do you?"
     
    I hesitated.
     
    "Do you?"
     
    "Not at the moment, no," I said.
     
    "But you came for me," Michaela said.
     
    "Yes," I said.  "We're always going to come for you."
     
    "Then why can't I play with Charity anymore?"
     
    "You can," Rafael said.  "Inside the house.  Get me to trust you again and you can go outside."
     
    Her lips pinched, her brows furrowing in ten-year-old righteous rage.  She spun around--her hair tossing around her like a cape--and ran up the staircase to her room.  I decided I'd better go fit the new window in its frame lest she jump to freedom.
     
    "She hates us," Rafael said miserably.
     
    I looked at him with some level of surprise.  "No, she doesn't," I said.  "If she hated us, she wouldn't have run."
     
    I don't think he followed.  His