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Then why didn’tIdream? I yearned to ask Stardust, but I was sure my inability to receive dreams was just as unusual as my ability to see others’, and Stardust was already suspicious of me. “How are dreams created?”

Stardust shook her head. “I’ve given you more than enough information already. Until I know what and who you are, my lips are sealed.” She tried pulling one of my dresses over her head, but it was far too small. She wriggled out of it, tossed it away, and dug her nose back into my trunk.

“Stop poking around in there; you’ll make a mess.”

She glanced around my bedroom, covered in dozens of untidy towers of junk. “Like you need my help with that.”

I stomped over and snapped the trunk shut, nearly on top of her.

“You must have some pretty dark secrets you’re hiding,” she said. “You’re only getting higher on my suspect list.”

Below, Mother’s footsteps paused beneath the ladder that led to my loft. “Eden, stop dawdling and help me tend the garden.”

Stardust smirked. “Finally, an opportunity to snoop. I’m sure this place is just bursting with clues.”

I didn’t like the idea of leaving a cloud to her own devices for an entire morning. Who knew what kind of mischief she’d cause? “No poking around until I get back.”

She sighed. “You’re really bossy. Luckily, detectives are never unprepared.” She reached inside herself and pulled out a fat coloring book. She flicked through all of the brightly colored pages—all so expertly shaded they looked like miniature paintings—and paused at the first blank page. She produced a box of crayons and, humming to herself, started coloring the sheep in her picture a vibrant turquoise. She noticed me watching and shielded her book. “Do you mind?”

“Eden!” Mother’s tone was at breaking point. “If you’re not down here in one minute, I’m coming up there.”

“You better go,” Stardust said in a singsong voice. “Don’t worry about me; I’ll stay up here and wait for you.” She batted her eyes innocently…tooinnocently.

“Stay out of my things.” After one final warning glare, I descended the ladder.

* * *

The heatof the sun dispelled much of the autumn chill while it beat down on my neck as it rose higher in the sky, my only measurement of the passing morning. The flowers’ perfume tickled my nose in the soft breeze that tangled my hair. Mother harvested herbs in the side garden while I halfheartedly trimmed the rose bushes in the backyard and did a bit of weeding around the dahlias, but it was impossible to focus on gardening as I entertained every type of mischief Stardust could get into while unattended in my bedroom. I kept my ears perked for any suspicious sounds or crashes coming from the house, but save for the snip of my sheers and the fluttering wings of several multi-colored butterflies hovering around Mother’s unique plants, all was quiet.

At noon, the clock’s chimes echoed through the parlor window, signaling the end of my gardening sentence. The garden gate creaked, announcing Mother’s return to check on me, a basket of fresh herbs looped through her arm. She frowned as she surveyed the dirt smudging my dress and the pathetically tiny pile of weeds I’d pulled.

“Distracted today, are we?”

I flinched at her disapproving tone, even as I itched to see what Stardust was up to. After returning to the house and eating a quick lunch, I scampered towards the ladder, but I’d barely stepped onto the bottom rung when Mother grabbed my arm.

“Where are you escaping to? I need you to run an errand for me in the village.” She held up a wrapped pouch, more herbs to be delivered.

“I’ll be right back; I just need to grab something from my room.” I only needed one peek, just to check on that mischievous cloud.

But Mother wouldn’t hear of it, leaving me no choice but to go to the village, an excursion that would leave Stardust to her own devices for far longer than I wanted.

I hurried as quickly as I could through the meadow dividing our home from the bustling village, delivered my package to the old biddy, and after extracting myself from her tedious rambles, I made my escape.

I took several side roads to avoid the heated, suspicious stares of the bustling crowds, only pausing outside the village gates when I noticed a little girl standing with her father as he tenderly played pat-a-cake with her. My heart warmed at the smile lighting her face, pleased that her father’s attention was providing a respite from the memory of last night’s nightmare still hovering near her.

My gaze flickered from the girl’s smile to her father. Seeing him caused the familiar pang to swell in my breast as the question that had haunted me my entire life returned: what had happened tomyfather? I’d asked Mother about him countless times, each inquiry followed by the same response: “You don’t have a father,” an answer that always left me confused.

“But everyone has a father. Did he abandon us?”

“You don’t have a father,” Mother repeated in her firm, unrelenting tone that forbade further questions. No matter how much I prodded for more information, she remained tight-lipped, until I eventually gave up. My lack of a father became yet another difference between me and the villagers, one of many I could never break free from.

I sighed and turned my back on the tender family scene and trudged home, where once again I tried to escape to my room, but Mother kept me busy the rest of the afternoon until it was time to prepare dinner. I joined her at the table, where a stack of vegetables waited to be diced. I stifled my growl of frustration. It had now been nearly eight hours since I’d left Stardust to her own devices; I sincerely doubted she’d spent the entire day innocently coloring.

I’d never chopped carrots and onions more quickly, and nearly broke a glass when setting the table. Mother watched me with raised eyebrows as she cooked the stew over the fire, but thankfully she didn’t question my behavior. I strained my ears for any noises coming from upstairs, but Stardust remained quiet until after dinner, when a creak pierced the air as I scrubbed the dishes. I froze.

Mother paused in her sewing and glanced up. “What was that?”

I listened with bated breath. All was quiet. “What was what?”