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anyone else?”
    God, you can’t expect me to love Liz and Denise, can you? It’s too hard.
    I waited for some kind of answer—you know, thunder or lightning or even a car honking. But nothing came.
    The more I thought about the trip, the more I realized I was not just ticked at Liz and Denise but at Hayley too—not to mention Duncan. He had given her the stuffed animal, and I was stuck with the creepy spider ring from a guy who’s called Skeeter because he looks like one.
    “If you are kind only to your friends, how are you different from anyone else?”
    I prayed, They don’t even think they’re doing anything wrong. How can I forgive people like that?
    No thunder. No lightning.
    On my nightstand was a picture of my father, who’d been killed years ago in a plane crash caused by terrorists. Did I have to do good to terrorists too?
    I closed my diary and my Bible and blew out my candle. “I can’t forgive those two,” I whispered. “I don’t know how. And I don’t want to know how. They don’t deserve to be forgiven.”
    Do you?
    It wasn’t an actual voice. It was just a question in my head.
    I was hoping it was the funnel cake I had before getting on the bus (I’ve heard food can make you dream weird things), but maybe it was my conscience.
    No, I don’t deserve to be forgiven, I prayed, but at least I asked. If Liz and Denise never ask, it’s not the same thing. Is it?
    Nothing.
    No thunder.
    No lightning.
    Just sleep.

Chapter 24

    Sam took us to the alpaca farm the next day. Ashley seemed really exhausted, and I figured it was because of her medicine. She has to take pills every day to keep her from having seizures, and they make her tired.
    The alpaca owner, Mr. Morris, is from Arkansas and has a long, drawn-out way of talking. He met us at the front gate and punched the code, then led us to the barn. It had a red roof and lots of fence wire running around two big pens.
    First we met Buck, a huge white dog that sniffed at our legs. I guess he smelled our dogs, Pippin and Frodo.
    “Can we pet him?” Ashley said.
    “Sure,” Mr. Morris said. “He’s a little cautious about strangers, but he’ll warm up to you.”
    “What kind of dog is he?”
    “A Great Pyrenees,” Mr. Morris said. “They’re especially good with alpacas.”
    “Do they herd them?” I said. “You know, like those dogs that herd sheep.”
    “No, they’re more protectors. They’ll fight a bear or a coyote or even a mountain lion that’s after one of the babies. Buck here has a couple of scrapes from some domestic dogs that tried to get in the pen.” He pulled Buck’s hair back and showed us wounds on his legs. “Those dogs will think twice ’fore they come around here again.”

Chapter 25

    I would have agreed to work at Mr. Morris’s farm if only for the chance to meet Buck. He’s a beautiful dog, and after sniffing us, he was friendly and let me pet him.
    Holding the baby alpaca almost took my mind off Liz and Denise. It was so cute and the softest thing I’ve ever felt in my life. No wonder people love sweaters and hats made from their fur.
    The baby is called a cria (you say it CREE-uh), and female alpacas usually have one per year. The pregnancy lasts 11½ months, and then the female gets pregnant again right away.
    “How long do they live?” Bryce said.
    “As long as 20 years,” Mr. Morris said.
    He said alpacas come in about 20 natural shades, from pure black to white and everything in between. Mr. Morris’s herd of about 40 looked like a rainbow.
    The baby’s name was Milk Dud—because he was born yellow and brown, like the Milk Duds box. All the time I was holding him, his mother followed me around with that long neck, eyeing me with her big eyes.
    It didn’t surprise me when Mr. Morris told us alpacas are from the camel family, because they look a little like them. But they’re closer to llamas.
    When we walked into the barn, I noticed a funny sound, like humming.
    Mr. Morris said alpacas do