Story Thieves Read Online Free PDF

cold.”
    Bethany nodded. It wasn’t a cold. Her mother only got this way when something reminded her of Bethany’s father.
    It could have been the color of Bethany’s hair, the same bronze color that her father had—at least that was the color her father had in Bethany’s memory of him. Sometimes it was just a word or a random memory. Bethany never knew exactly what set her mother off, but it always came down to her mother sitting in front of a fire, even in the middle of summer, and staring into an old hand mirror that had been a gift from her father. Then her mom would go to bed, and the mirror would disappear, never to be seen again until the next time this happened.
    â€œAre you hungry, Beth?” her mother asked.
    â€œNo, I had a snack at school. I’m good for now,” Bethany told her. “You go sit down. You still sound sick. I’ll make you something.”
    Her mother gave her a sad smile, then nodded. “You’re far too sweet, you know. I’m so proud of you, of the person you’re growing up to be, you know that?”
    Bethany returned the smile, but inwardly wanted to groan. What would her mother say if she knew Bethany was reading every single night? Breaking the one rule her mother ever really cared about? And would probably be in a book right now if it meant not having to watch her mother cry?
    An hour later her mother had a fire going and was sitting with her hand mirror on her lap, staring at the flames. Bethany kissed her forehead, then quietly went upstairs to her room and closed the door behind her.
    She pulled a copy of Goodnight Moon out from underneath her bed and ran her fingers over the cover. Years and years ago her father had walked with her through the book’s rooms, narrating the story by heart to her as they went. It was her first memory of him, and her favorite one.
    All this time, she’d wondered where her father had gone, and now she had a way to find him.
    But what if he hadn’t come back because . . . because he didn’t want to?
    She stuffed the book back beneath her bed, pulled The Little Prince out from a different spot, then jumped in to spend the rest of the night alone with the stars.

CHAPTER 5
    O wen stared at Bethany across the cafeteria, an empty feeling in his stomach. It wasn’t entirely a trick, honestly. There was a spell in the Magister’s spell book that might help her find her father. And after learning that Bethany’s father was missing, Owen really did want to help.
    It just felt wrong, though, to use that as an excuse to get him into the book. Even if all he wanted to do was perform an amazing, heroic, lifesaving, awesome act of goodness. Even if this was clearly the thing he’d been meant to do with his life, saving the Magister.
    Maybe he should just tell her the truth? He knew that Bethany would never go for it, since he’d be changing the story, and that seemed to freak her out more than almost anything—anything other than learning magic, at least. But then he wouldn’t feel so guilty, and besides, what did he have to lose, since she wasn’t taking him anyway?
    Owen glanced over at her, at her long reddish-brown hair, and wondered who her father might actually be. Was it someone famous, like Sherlock Holmes? James Bond? He came from books too, didn’t he? Or maybe someone like Gandalf? The wizard seemed kind of old to be someone’s father, though. Grandfather, sure, but father, maybe not.
    Or maybe it was some character from one of those romantic books that people were always checking out, but trying to hide the covers from Owen at the counter like they were embarrassed. That seemed like a possibility, considering her mother had fallen in love with her father by reading about him. Who did that? Who fell in love with a character in a book?
    Whoever Bethany’s father was, maybe Owen could still help. Not by jumping into the books with her, but by