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Marscha didn't snap back. She was looking at the edge of the bank. She noticed the way the soil was crumbling under Toby’s sneakers even before he leaped. She noticed a hidden root slick with moss. "Toby, don't," Marscha called out. "Why not? Scared?"

The rhythmic tick-tock of the grandfather clock in the hallway was the heartbeat of the Miller house, but for ten-year-old Marscha, it was a reminder of everything she couldn't yet control. Watch Marscha

"Good catch, Marscha," Toby whispered, his face a little pale. Marscha didn't snap back