The Old Willis Place

stared at Lissa. Did anyone really care if she saw me? Would they even know? Maybe it was time to test the rules.
    I drew in my breath as if I were standing on a high dive and took a tentative step toward her, still in the dense shade, still hidden, still safe.
    Lissa remained where she was, her eyes fixed on my hiding place. Hands on hips, legs braced, she waited for me to show myself.
    MacDuff was at the far end of the lawn, sniffing at something in a pile of old logs, his back to the house, unaware of my presence.
    I took another small step. The vines screening me shifted and rustled. Cautiously I stepped into the sunlight and squinted across the ruined lawn at Lissa. Scared as I was, I raised my hand to wave and forced myself to smile.
    Instead of returning my smile, Lissa gasped and stepped backward, almost falling over the lion bench. Without taking her eyes off me, she cried, "MacDuff ! MacDuff!"
    I froze, too shocked to move or speak. Lissa was afraid of me. What was wrong with her? Wasn't I a girl like herself? Why should she be scared?
    I longed to run to her and tell her I meant no harm. Surely she'd understand. She must be lonely. Like me, she must want a friend. But I didn't dare approach her now, not with her looking at me as if I were a monster.
    Again she called the dog, louder this time, her voice shrill and shaky with fear, her eyes fixed on me.
    MacDuff heard Lissa this time. He started to run to her, but when he saw me, he swerved across the field in my direction, barking fiercely. In desperation, I turned and fled into the woods, stumbling over roots and stones, crying as I hadn't cried for years.

Chapter 5
    Behind me, I heard Lissa call the dog back. I leaned against a tree, breathing hard. Before I'd caught my breath, Georgie crashed out of the bushes, his face fierce.
    "She saw you," he screamed. "You let her see you!"
    "Oh, Georgie," I began, but he flung himself at me, pum-meling me with his fists. I'd never seen my brother so angry.
    "You stepped right out in plain sight," he shouted. "You did it on purpose!"
    I shoved him away, grabbed his shoulders, held him at arm's length. "I'm sorry," I cried. "I'm sorry."
    He struggled to escape, twisting and flailing like Nero when he didn't want to be held. "Why did you do it, Diana? Why did you break the rules?"
    "I told you." I started to cry again. "I wanted to be Lissa's friend, but she was afraid of me. She sicced the dog on me. Why was she scared? What's wrong with me, Georgie?"
    "How should I know?" With one huge effort, he broke free of me and ran into the woods.
    "Wait!" I called. "I'm sorry, Georgie. Don't be mad."
    By the time I caught up with him, Georgie had gotten over the worst of his anger. He got mad quickly and easily, but at least he didn't stay mad long.
    "Lissa doesn't know who I am," I told him. "She doesn't know where I live. She's never even seen you. What harm can she do?"
    Georgie thought for a while, his forehead creased with concentration. At last he said, "If you stay away from her, maybe she'll think she imagined you. That's what her father will tell her."
    I pictured Lissa running home, screaming about something she'd seen in the woods. How would she describe me? I couldn't imagine. But Georgie was right—whatever nonsense she spouted, her father most likely wouldn't believe her. He'd say it was kids playing tricks on her. Maybe he'd tell her to stay away from the old house. Maybe he'd remind her of what the policeman had said about the woods.
    Georgie picked up a stick and began drawing little figures in the dirt. "If we stay away from the trailer, maybe nothing bad will happen. Lissa doesn't want to be your friend. Promise not to let her see you again." He dropped the stick and grabbed my wrists so tight it hurt. "Promise"
    I mumbled something. At that moment, I had no desire to go near Lissa or the trailer. She'd been scared of me, repulsed. She'd called me a thief, sicced her dog on me. I didn't want to be her friend anymore.
    ***
    That night, long after Georgie settled down to sleep, I lay beside him, thinking about Lissa. I saw her face again, heard her call the dog to run me off as if I were disgusting, maybe even dangerous. A trespasser. A thief.
    What had she seen when she looked at me? What had frightened her? If only I could talk to her—surely I could convince her she was wrong to fear me. But doing that would mean breaking my promise to Georgie. Hadn't I just told him I'd stay away from the trailer?
    I