Finding Grace by Becky Citra

well. This is the last week of Bible Camp and then the torture is over. And then, in one more week, Janey and Louise will be back. They are my absolute best friends. They just about died when Aunty Eve said I couldn’t go with them. They were going to go on strike and stay home too, but their parents had already paid for it and everything, so they had to go.”
    I feel a sharp pang of envy. I can’t imagine having two absolute best friends who would go on strike and give up camp just for me. To be honest, I can’t imagine having any best friends at all. I never have. It’s one more thing besides loving books that’s different between Grace and me. This is stupid and makes no sense at all but I’ve decided not to like Janey and Louise. I’m glad they’re away.
    Grace’s legs were curled underneath her, but now she stretches them out. “God, my legs are hairy,” she moans.
    I stare at Grace’s legs, which actually are quite hairy. A hot flush spreads across my cheeks.
    Grace’s right leg is way skinnier than her left leg, and it kind of curves towards her foot. It’s the first time I’ve noticed it.
    It must be the polio . It hits me full blast then, that this whole thing is not just some made-up story in a book. I really do have a twin sister and she’s sitting beside me, right beside me , and my mother gave her away because she had polio.
    Don’t stare, a voice whispers in my head.
    And then, Tell her, you have to tell her .
    â€œAre you allowed to shave?”
    â€œWhat?” I struggle to pull my thoughts together. Grace’s skinny leg has totally flustered me.
    â€œDoes your mom let you shave your legs?”
    â€œI don’t know. I’ve never asked.”
    The truth is, I’ve never worried about hair on my legs. I inspect them now. They’re not nearly as bad as Grace’s (one more thing that’s different about us), but they’re definitely hairy. How did I miss that before? I have so many things to worry about and now I have to add hairy legs to my list.
    â€œI’m not allowed,” Grace says. “Aunty Evil has a fit if I even mention it. She says it’s vain to worry about hairy legs when you’re eleven years old.”
    She jumps up. “Can you keep a secret?”
    â€œYeah.”
    I mean, aren’t I keeping the biggest secret of all? I get this crazy urge to burst into hysterical laughter, even though it’s not one bit funny.
    â€œCome on.”
    Grace pushes open the screen door and I follow her inside her house. After being out in the bright sun, it’s dark inside. We walk down a long narrow hallway, past a kitchen and a living room, and then up a flight of stairs.
    As I walk behind her, I try to decide if she’s walking normally. She doesn’t really look like she’s limping, but it’s hard to tell. She certainly has no trouble climbing up the stairs.
    â€œThis is my room,” Grace says.
    The room is tiny. There’s a bed with a yellow bedspread and with a mound of stuffed animals on the pillow, and a blue dresser and a desk by the window. The window is open and a lace curtain is blowing in the breeze. I can smell something sweet like flowers. The floor is buried under heaps of clothes.
    â€œIt’s a mess,” Grace says cheerfully. “I’m not allowed to go anywhere until I clean it up or else I’ll be grounded.”
    I’m only half-listening to Grace. My eyes are riveted on the stuffed animals. There’s a monkey, a dog, a teddy bear, a rabbit, and a hippo. My heart skips a beat. It’s my hippo, Harry. The same pinkish fur and black button eyes.
    It’s Harry all right, but it can’t be.

Chapter Twenty-Five
    I pick up the hippo. “Where did you get this?”
    â€œThat old hippo?” Grace shrugs. “I don’t know. I’ve always had it.”
    â€œDid someone give it to you?”
    â€œI told