Standing there was a tiny girl.
She looked impossibly small against the wide wooden boards of the porch, like a lost doll someone had accidentally left outside. She couldn’t have been more than three years old. Her bare feet were pink and stiff from the frost-covered grass, and the thin cotton pajamas she wore were far too light for a Montana winter night. Cartoon snowflakes and animated princesses covered the pale blue fabric, now darkened near the bottom where it had soaked up moisture from the ground.
Her lips were tinted a faint shade of purple.
Her entire body trembled violently.
And in her arms she carried a small gray kitten.
Continue on the next page:
