Running Out of Time by Margaret Peterson Haddix

She concentrated on counting the money, three more twenties and a couple that said “1,” with George Washington’s face on the front. At least President Washington’s picture was familiar, too. Things couldn’t be too different in the 1990s if people kept George Washington and Andrew Jackson on their money. Pa would be happy to know President Jackson was worth more.
    â€œHe may have won the Revolutionary War, but he was stilla Federalist,” Pa always said about President Washington. Pa didn’t think too highly of Federalists.
    But Jessie was confused again. Pa already knew that Andrew Jackson was on a bigger bill than George Washington. Pa and Ma both had used this kind of money before they moved to Clifton.
    Jessie rubbed her forehead. If only she could get everything straight in her mind. She took the last bill out, and a slip of paper fell to the ground. Jessie grabbed it before it blew into the creek. She unfolded the corners.
    Jessie ,
    By now you should know what I’ve told you is true. And maybe you’ve found some explanations for what I don’t understand…. Know that in spite of everything, Pa and I love you. We never expected or wanted Clifton to turn out the way it did.
    There should he more than enough money and food here for you. Take care. I’II pray for you the whole time you’re away.
    Ma
    At the bottom was the name” Isaac Neeley”—the man Jessie was supposed to tell about the illness—with the number for her to call when she found a phone. Ma had also written out instructions about what Jessie was supposed to say. But Jessie’s eyes blurred too much to read that part. Suddenly she felt unbearably homesick for Ma’s familiar writing and Pa’s political comments and—yes, even Nathan’s screaming for jam at breakfast. Well, she’d be back home again soon, assoon as she found a phone and got help for Katie and the others. And she could be brave until then.
    Jessie put the note back in the area with the paper money and opened other compartments.
    Coins spilled out of one spot, and Jessie almost knocked the whole pack into the water trying to retrieve them. It was one of these that Jessie would have to put in the phone, when she found one. But Ma hadn’t been able to tell Jessie what coins to use.
    â€œIt’s been so long,” Ma had murmured. “And things might have changed….”
    Her voice had scared Jessie. Jessie tried not to think about it. She pried open another part of the billfold. This had pages, with papers stuck between a slippery surface.
    â€œPennsylvania Driver’s License,” the first paper said. It had another one of those picture-things that were too realistic to be drawings. She realized the picture was of Ma before she moved to Clifton.
    Ma’s light brown hair mostly went to her shoulders, with some of it cut shorter and curled. Jessie couldn’t help thinking it was kind of ugly that way. But Ma’s blue eyes were kind, as usual, and she was smiling gently, as though gazing at Pa. She looked as young as Hannah.
    Jessie turned to the next page and saw another picture-thing, this time showing a baby and a little girl in a short dress.
    â€œHannah and Jessie, 1983,” it said on the back.
    This was proof, then, that Jessie had lived in the world outside Clifton.
    Jessie felt so strange, she snapped the billfold shut and putit back in the pack. She tore off some of the bread and jerky and began eating, automatically.
    All her life until today, if someone had asked Jessie who she was, she’d have had an easy answer: “I’m Jessie Keyser. My pa’s the blacksmith here in Clifton, and I’ve lived here as long as I can remember. We came out from Pennsylvania….”
    But there had been no need for Jessie to tell anyone that, because everyone in Clifton knew her.
    Now that Jessie knew Clifton wasn’t a normal village, and it wasn’t