CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

SAM PRESSED THE phone to her ear, nervous. Aunt Vicky had already talked to BriAnn’s parents, but Sam hadn’t yet talked to BriAnn. What if she was angry? What if she was sad? What if she didn’t believe any of the things Aunt Vicky had told her parents about why Sam and Caitlin moved to Oregon?

“Hello?” a voice said.

“BriAnn? It’s me, Sam.” She was rewarded with BriAnn’s squeal.

“Saaaaaam! I missed you so much! You have to tell me everything about Oregon, okay? Everything! How soon can I visit? My mom said she’s always wanted to visit Portland, and she can bring me. I’ve already researched all the animals I want to draw, like a beaver and a Steller’s jay! And you can introduce me to all your new friends, too.”

Sam grinned into the mouthpiece. “Well, there’s only the one friend now, Lucas, unless you count Aunt Vicky and Hannah. They’re old, but they’re nice.”

Across the room, at the kitchen table, Hannah laughed. Sam liked the sound.

“Sam, I totally get why you didn’t want to tell me you were moving,” BriAnn said in her serious voice. “There’s stuff I find hard to talk about, too.”

“There is?” Sam asked. She thought BriAnn told her everything, and it hurt a little to know that she didn’t.

Which … was kind of BriAnn’s point, Sam realized.

“So we make a pact to tell each other stuff,” Sam said. The idea made her heart a little fluttery, but maybe in a good way.

“Deal!” BriAnn said instantly. “I have to tell you about this guy my mom met at the wedding. I actually caught them kissing!”

Sam pressed the phone to her ear, eager to hear every word. Clearly BriAnn was already better at sharing stuff, but Sam could catch up. She could do anything.

By the time she and BriAnn hung up, they had plans to see each other, pending BriAnn’s mother’s schedule and miscellaneous stuff, like school. It was something, at least. And BriAnn promised to send more pictures in her letters, to tide Sam over.

Sam still hadn’t gotten the letter that her parents had sent, but Mr. Sanchez said he’d have a new one for her soon. There were rules to be followed, and unlike Ashander, Mr. Sanchez didn’t change them.

“Who’s up for a game?” Aunt Vicky asked.

“Me!” Lucas said instantly. He put away his knitting and leaped over to the kitchen table. “But not Monopoly. My dad said it glamorizes the real estate market.”

Aunt Vicky snorted.

Caitlin removed an earbud. “Game time? I’m in. I need revenge.”

“I’ll get the rhubarb pie and ice cream,” Hannah said. “If you monsters left any of it after lunch,” she added.

Sam paused on her way to the table and looked out the window. It was easy to spot Birch playing high up in the branches. Nowadays, she and the Queen of Squirrels were inseparable, always adventuring together, always watching each other’s backs. Sam wouldn’t be surprised if the queen knighted Birch before too long. Sam only hoped they would invite her to the ceremony.

She turned away from the window. “Can we try Fox and Squirrels?” She’d had the game for almost two weeks now, and she still hadn’t played for real.

Aunt Vicky pumped her arm in some sort of victory maneuver. It was super dorky.

Hannah rolled her eyes. “It’s only her favorite game of all time. Did she pay you to suggest it, Sam?”

“Not this time,” Sam laughed.

Aunt Vicky wiped the table while Sam got the game from her room. Lucas reached for the cards, oohing and aahing over the artwork. When he exclaimed over one of the fox cards, Sam shuddered. She couldn’t help it. The fox on the card looked so much like Ashander.

“Do you know what house rules are?” Aunt Vicky asked. She sat down next to Sam and held out her hand for the cards. Lucas gave them to her.

Sam shook her head. “House rules?”

“Yep.” Aunt Vicky shuffled through the cards with practiced ease, pulling out all the foxes and putting them in their own separate pile, lickety-split. “Sometimes you figure out a way to change the game so that it’s more fun, and you play with those rules instead of the official ones.”

Sam snaked her hand under the table and into the pocket of her shorts. The Golden Acorn was still there, smooth and cool. She kept it with her every day, and had developed the habit of touching it to prove to herself that it was still there.

Her new therapist, Dr. Beranek, said keeping the Acorn was okay. Dr. Beranek said a lot of things, but mostly just listened while Sam did the talking.

“Does this game have any house rules?” Lucas asked.

Sam already knew the answer. She’d read the rules over and over, though she’d never known that it was Aunt Vicky’s handwriting at the end. And she hadn’t known enough about the game to understand what Aunt Vicky’s rules meant.

“I’ve got a few to suggest,” Aunt Vicky said. “But we won’t use them unless everyone agrees. And before that can happen, I have to explain how to play.” She shuffled the deck—without the fox cards—and started to deal. “This first round will just be practice.”

“But after that, all bets are off,” Hannah said, pulling out the chair next to Lucas. “I’m terrible at cards, but I love to win!”

Sam touched the Acorn again.

The morning after her showdown with Ashander in the woods, she’d been surprised to find the Golden Acorn still in her palm. Aunt Vicky must have seen it when she helped Sam get changed for bed, but she never said anything. Sam was surprised, too, that the Golden Acorn wasn’t actually golden. It was a dull grayish brown, a lot like a plain old river rock.

At first she’d panicked, thinking she hadn’t found the Golden Acorn after all. But later, she realized the truth: once you found the Acorn and got your wish, the color faded. The magic was gone.

No, not gone. Used up.

Sam had read enough stories to know that wishes were persnickety. They didn’t always do what you thought you wanted. Sometimes they looked into your soul and gave you what you really wanted instead.

“Okay, pick up your cards,” Aunt Vicky said. “The goal of the game is to collect enough nuts to survive the winter. We’re going to do that by collecting cards—”

“I’m already confused,” Lucas said, but he didn’t look the least bit upset by the revelation. “Can I play as a squirrel?”

Aunt Vicky started to answer, but Sam beat her to it.

“Yes, you can play as a squirrel,” Sam said. Everyone looked at her, even Caitlin. And they waited for her to keep talking. “I mean, if everyone agrees. Then we’ll make it a house rule. Anyone who wants to play as a squirrel gets to be a squirrel. That’s how it works, right?”

Aunt Vicky beamed. “That’s exactly how this family works.”