Free The Fox Inheritance by Mary E. Pearson Page B

and takes us down another narrow street. Tall, decaying buildings rise up on either side, and they all appear empty. Windows are boarded up or broken. As we get farther down the street, we see signs of people. Sidewalks are swept, windows have shades, an orange cat eats from a bowl set on a doorstep, and finally, there are a few people out in cars or walking. At the end of the street is a large cart filled with baked goods and baskets of fruit. Dot stops and whistles to the woman tending the cart. "Hey, Lucia! Got a couple of tourists here. Lost their money. Can you spare a muffin or two?"
    "Ah, you and your tourists," the woman says, shaking her head. She grabs a bag and begins filling it with muffins, fruit, and boxes of juice. "Always with the tourists. You'd think you were the Statue of Liberty." She walks over with the filled bag and hands it to Dot through the window. "You need a new line, Miss Liberty." She leans down so she can get a better glimpse of us and then grunts at Dot. "Maybe these two really are tourists. They don't look like your usual free breakfasts."
    "Nothing usual about them at all," Dot says. "They're--"
    "Dot!" I lean forward. Dot may be enamored with our Escapee status, but I don't know how Lucia will feel about it or how loose her tongue might be. "We're from out of town," I say to Lucia. "Lost our money. How stupid is that? But we really appreciate your kindness."
    She frowns and nods at me.
    "What trouble have you gotten into now, Dot?" She waves her hand and walks away. "Don't tell me! I don't want to know!"
    "You're a gem among gems, Lucia," Dot calls after her.
    "I know, I know...."
    Kara is already biting into a muffin.
    "Did you see that?" I ask. "Just like the old neighborhood." Kara doesn't answer, but I'm feeling better already. "Now on to Francis Street."
    "Francis Street?" Dot says. "Let me check." She pauses, her eyes becoming unfocused for a moment. "No, I was right. No Francis Street in Boston."

Chapter 22

    I thought maybe the street had been renamed or that Dot was simply wrong. So I gave her directions and told her to look for certain landmarks, and now I stand where my whole neighborhood once stood. It is not just Francis Street that's gone, but the street over from it, and the next one, and the next.
    All gone. Massive transgrid pilings drill into the earth where there used to be a house. My house. Or my neighbor's. It's hard to know exactly where I'm standing with everything gone. My only point of reference is the river across the way from it all, and even that has changed. High walls border it now. Dot told us that ocean levels have risen so much, most of Boston is below sea level now and has to be protected by a levee system.
    "Come back in the car," Kara calls. "Let's go!"
    I remember my iScroll and as a last resort turn it on, hoping there's a search app I don't know about. Maybe there's some mistake. Maybe I'm just not remembering right. It's been so long.
    "Jenkins. Francis Street."
    There is no response. The only thing my iScroll is programmed for are the shallow games that Dr. Gatsbro used to keep a gullible boy distracted. I picture his bloody head on the floor of the study again and feel none of the remorse of yesterday.
    I stare, unable to leave. I know looking at ramps and pilings won't make my old life appear or bring back my family, but I search for anything, maybe just something in the air that still holds traces of my life. I don't believe in ghosts, but I can almost hear my mom calling me in for dinner. Locke! Dinnertime. Your turn to set the table . I can almost laugh at how naive I was. Miesha's right, I am just a boy. I half believed that my distant nieces or nephews would be right here, strolling the same streets. That I'd spot one who looked just like my brother or sister. They would spot me. We would recognize something familiar in each other. I'd go home and have dinner with them. That--
    That there would be something .
    "Locke! We're going to leave