Free Tell Me by Joan Bauer

much of anything else.
    Zoe walks with me around and around the ring. I look up. The clouds are moving fast across the sky.
    â€œThat’s it for today.” Taylor helps me down. Zoe stretches her neck and touches my shoulder with her nose.
    â€œThat’s horse for ‘I like you,’” Taylor explains.
    I look at Zoe from the side, smile, and say, “I like you, too.”
    Taylor climbs in the saddle and rubs Zoe’s neck. “You okay, Anna?”
    I nod. More than okay.
    â€œYou did really well.” Taylor makes a clicking sound, Zoe turns, and they ride out of the ring into the sunset—actually, it’s morning, but you get the idea.
    I look at my phone.
    From Becca: I’m a miracle, too!
    From Lorenzo: What????? You’re just figuring out you’re a miracle??? I’ve known this about you for years
.

    I’m walking down the stone path past the birdhouses in Mim’s garden. I stop at the bird hotel my father made. It looks like a white frame house with shutters. Birds are flying in and out. Dad is good with his hands.
    He’s good at so many things, but it’s like he left those behind. I don’t know why. I think adults can get so super- serious about their careers that they forget that fun is an important pat of life. I look at the yellow scrunchie.
    I wonder if it’s okay to have fun when that girl is out there scared.
    I wonder why the world is so different for people.
    Here I am safe in this town, but so many kids aren’t in a safe place.
    I walk to the patio, see Mim and Winnie in the kitchen.
    â€œJust the girl we want to see,” Mim says.
    I walk in, sit down at the bright purple table that Mim painted—it’s got a huge sunflower design on it. It’s impossible to sit at this table and be sad. Mim hands me a strawberry muffin just warm from the oven.
    Winnie sips coffee, making those noises adults make when the caffeine starts to kick in. “Anna, did I ever tell you about my grandson Brad?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œWell, he’s interested in what happened at the library. He’s the one who made a phone call and got the police sketch artist to work with us.”
    â€œIs he a policeman?”
    â€œHe’s in a different kind of law enforcement. He’s an agent for Homeland Security.”
    That’s going high up!
    Mim sits down with her coffee. All three of us are leaning in close at this purple sunflower table.
    â€œDo you know all that Homeland Security does, honey?”
    â€œThey look for terrorists.”
    â€œThat’s some of it.”
    â€œAnd they guard the borders . . . and life as we know it . . .” I think that’s right.
    â€œYou’d be amazed at what they do.” Winnie sips her coffee. “I called Brad to tell him our situation, and here’s the first question he asked me: Who was in control?”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œWas the girl being controlled by someone, or did it seem she could go where she wanted?”
    â€œThe lady had her by the arm. She even went into the bathroom with her.”
    â€œSo,” Winnie says, “the answer is, someone else seemed to be in control of this girl.” She takes a big breath. “Brad says that can be a sign of kidnapping, or human trafficking—which is a form of modern-dayslavery.”
    I look at the happy sunflower on this table.
    It’s not like I live in a cave. I know there are awful things that happen in this world.
    But how can something so awful happen here?
    â€œThis is tough stuff,” Winnie adds. “But if Brad’s right . . .”
    She lets that hang there.
    â€œWhat do we do next?” I ask.
    â€œWe wait, honey.”
    â€œWe pray,” Mim adds.
    I can pray, but I’m not good at waiting.
    I write this in my horse journal:
    Â 
    Dear God,
    I need you to speed this up because we’re pretty sure there are bad guys