Libby Thump wished for horses. She sat on the floor of her bedroom surrounded by pictures of them. Grays, chestnuts, bays, piebalds, cantering, trotting, whinnying, sleeping horses!
Up on their shelves forgotten dolls in glittery tiaras gazed out. From under the bed peeked dress-up clothes that Libby and her ex–best friend, Brittany, used to play princess in. But Libby hadn’t played princess in a long time. She had been drawing horses.
“Li-i-ibby-y-y-y-y!” her mother called.
“Coming,” she replied.
Libby put down her colored chalks and gave the drawing one last look. The...