"Hurry, Timmy!" Jessica pulled her little brother through the trees. "He'll find us. We have to get away." Their dog ran ahead, then turned and barked for them to catch up. "Sh-h-h, Rags. You'll give us away."

Timmy tripped over a tree root. Jessica scooped him up in her arms. "I'll carry you. We'll go faster." Where could they go? And how would they live? The crackers she had stuffed in her backpack wouldn't last long. "I do know we have to get away from there," she said softly.

They came to the Hanson place, which bordered the farm where Jessica's family lived. A tornado had carried away the little Hanson house a few years ago. Only the foundation and cellar remained. Jessica carefully climbed down the steps into the cellar. She put her brother down and led him to a corner. "Come, Rags," she whispered to the dog. "We'll hide here."

Timmy hugged her leg. "Me scared."

"S-h-h, Timmy," Jessica told him. "We'll be all right." She hoped it was true.

"Jessica!" The loud voice boomed through the trees.

Oh no, he was coming. She pulled Timmy and Rags up against the wall. Had he seen them? She didn't dare breathe.

"Jessica." She looked up. He was staring down at her. "Get out of that cellar now." What would he do to her? Still, she had no choice. She picked Timmy up and slowly climbed back up the steps.

When she stepped onto the grass, he didn't hit her or even yell at her. He simply said, "Go home," and strode off ahead.

Carrying Timmy, she followed her father. Rags stayed by her side this time. She didn't know what would happen when they reached home. She expected to be punished, of course. "It was a stupid idea," she said, as she reached down to pat Rags' head. "Were we going to live in that empty cellar? What would we eat? And how would we keep dry when it rained?"

Even though she was only eleven, she knew how impractical it had been to run away. But she also understood it wasn't good for three-year-old Timmy to see and hear the terrible things that went on in their home.