Ysabel’s eyes widened, then brimmed with tears. She had never been so far from her parents that her voice couldn’t reach them. “Esther, are we lost?” Esther looked around, at the twisting, thick-limbed trees and the dewy green light. She felt some stirring in her heart that cautioned her against answering the question; lost felt like a shifting, chancy word, a dangerous word to apply to oneself in Arcadia. More than that: she understood that she needed to be brave for Ysabel. “I’m sure we can find our way back, Bel,” said Esther, firmly.
