Henry was feeling miserable.
He was tired of hiding in the woods. Prickers grabbed at his skin and roots made him stumble and wet leaves made for a cold bed at night.
His bad hip ached, slowing him down and making him limp.
He was hungry. The freckled girl didn’t come to the fence as often as she used to, so the little plastic bowl was usually empty.
And then there were those two girls.
The quiet one and the wild-haired one.
Henry didn’t know what to think about them.
Maybe he shouldn’t have run away from Wonderland after all.
There was always food there.
And a warm, dry bed.
But something was different at Wonderland.
Something that did not feel right to Henry.