23 Family

Ava

I found it under the big oak tree where I always sit to read. The raven was so still, like it had just decided to stop being a bird in the middle of flying. Its eyes were cloudy, and its feathers stuck out all wrong. When I poked it with a stick, it didn't move, but it made a weird sound—not like a squish, more like breaking glass, but super quiet.

That's when I saw the sparkly stuff. It was in the dried blood around its beak and eyes. Little crystals that caught the morning light.

Miss Hilda would say to leave dead things alone. Alpha would say to tell a guard. But I wanted to know what happened to it.

So I took off my sweater—the blue one with the silver threads that Alpha got me for my birthday—and wrapped the bird up carefully. It was stiff and lighter than I thought it would be. Like it was hollow inside.

Dr. Graham would know what to do. She knows about everything.

I looked around to make sure nobody was watching, then tucked the bundle under my arm and ran across the garden