The Girl Who Chased the Moon Read Online Free PDF Page B

themselves—in fact Win sometimes thought his mother had even forgotten and she seemed strangely happier that way—but they never, ever talked about it in front of the help.
    Win turned and walked over to where his sister, Kylie, was sitting in the far corner of the room. She had her phone out and was texting someone. This was traditionally reading time in the Coffey household, at dusk, just before dinner. It was an old family tradition, dating back hundreds of years, structuring their time at night when they were all forced to stay inside because of their secret, even on beautiful summer nights like this one. Win didn’t see the point of it now, and he was itching to go outside. He’d felt this building for months now. He didn’t want to sneak around like there was something wrong with him anymore.
    He sat beside his sister and watched her ignore him for a few minutes. Win was almost two years older than Kylie, and when they were kids, she used to follow him around relentlessly. She was about to turn sixteen and she still followed him, either to vex him or to protect him. He wasn’t sure which. He wasn’t sure she knew, either. “You shouldn’t test him,” Kylie said. “If I were you, I’d stay far, far away from that girl.”
    “Maybe I’m just getting to know my enemy.” It was unsettling, his unexpected fascination with Emily, with her unruly blond hair and the sharp edges of her face and body. When they’d shaken hands that morning, he hadn’t wanted to let go. There was something vulnerable about her, something soft under those sharp edges. He’d been thinking about her all day. It had to be more than a coincidence, Dulcie Shelby’s daughter coming to town at the same time he was having issues with the way his family chose to live. Maybe it was a sign.
    Yes. That was it.
    It had to be a sign.
    “I’m going out again tonight,” he said suddenly. “Don’t tell Dad. And don’t follow me.”
    Kylie rolled her eyes. “Why do you keep trying? I can tell you from experience, it’s not all that great.”
    “What?”
    “Being ordinary.”
    “JULIA! WILL you get the door please?” Stella called from downstairs that same evening, just as Julia was taking her second attempt at madeleines out of the oven. She frowned at the pan. Still no good.
    Stella bellowed again, “Julia! It’s Sawyer, and I’m in the bathtub!”
    Julia sighed. She’d already seen Sawyer once today. That was enough. The key to getting out of this stay in Mullaby un-scathed was not associating with him.
    Julia wiped her hands on her jeans and went downstairs with hard, Godzilla footfalls on the steps to annoy Stella, whose bathroom was directly under the staircase. Through the sheer curtains on the front door window, she could see a figure haloed by the porch light.
    She took a deep breath and opened the door. But she smiled in relief when she saw who it was.
    Emily shifted from one foot to the other. She was wearing the same clothes she’d been wearing that morning, black shorts and a black tank top, and her quirky blond hair shone like meringue in the light by the door. “Hi, Julia,” she said. “Am I interrupting something?”
    “No. No, of course not.” She stepped back and waved Emily in. When Julia had told her that she’d be here if Emily ever needed her, she didn’t think she’d take her up on her offer so soon. Still, as Julia watched the girl look around awkwardly, her heart went out to her. It was never easy being the outsider, especially when it wasn’t by choice.
    “You have a nice house,” Emily said. Stella’s part of the house was warm and lovely, thanks to her decorator mother—golden wood floors, lively flower arrangements, original artwork, and a striped silk couch she wouldn’t let anyone sit on.
    “It’s not mine. It belongs to my friend Stella. I have the apartment upstairs.”
    As if on cue, Stella yelled, “Hello, Sawyer! I’m wearing nothing but steam, want to see?”
    “It’s not