By Patricia Reilly Giff
A runaway foster girl who draws instead of talks finds two homes worth staying for, and nearly loses them both.
Hollis Woods was left as a baby at a crossroads by that name, and twelve years later she's run from more foster homes than she can count. She talks through her drawings more than her words. The book braids two stories: the present, where she's placed with Josie, a gentle old retired art teacher whose memory is starting to slip away, and last summer, when a family called the Regans took her in and, for once, she let herself belong, until an accident she blames on herself sent her running again. As Josie grows more forgetful and the state starts asking questions, Hollis has to decide whether to run one more time or fight for the people she loves. It's quiet, lyrical, and it holds you.
For a child who has moved through placements, Hollis is deeply recognizable: the reflex to run before you can be sent away, the private conviction that you ruin the good things. The book honors that without wallowing, and it gives her something rarer than a rescue, a chance to choose a family and be chosen back. It's a tender, hopeful read for a child who can sit with a slow-building story, and a lovely one to share with a grown-up who can talk it through.