Vanishing Acts by Phillip Margolin, Ami Margolin Rome Page B

own plot of land. In the gym were a basketball court and an Olympic-size swimming pool. The soccer field was behind the gym and was surrounded by woods. The stands were filled with parents and students, even though the teams were only playing a scrimmage. Madison didn’t look for her father in the crowd. She knew he wouldn’t be there. Madison’s father rarely made it to her games. She was sure if her mom was alive she would have made it to every single one of them.
    The bus stopped and Coach Davis got off first. The Prescott-Mather coach was waiting for her, and the prep school players were lined up at her side. The coaches shook hands and chatted for a moment. They seemed like old friends. Then Coach Davis motioned for the team to get off the bus. The girls were already wearing their soccer gear. After they shook hands with their rivals, Coach Davis led them to the visitor’s bench, where they huddled up and she gave them a short pep talk. Then she read off the starting lineup before sending the team out to warm up.
    Madison was not starting, but she hoped that she’d get in the game at some point so the coach could see how well she played against a really good team. Thinking about playing against Prescott-Mather brought back memories of the last game she and Ann had played together. Madison blinked back an unexpected tear. For the first time in her soccer career she would be playing a game without Ann. Where was she? Was she safe? Madison would have given anything to know the answer to those questions.
    With two minutes left, Pettygrove and Prescott-Mather were tied 1 to 1 and Madison was still on the bench because Coach Davis was only playing her starters. The coach looked more intense than Madison had ever seen her, and that was saying a lot. She stomped along the sidelines yelling at everyone, her face bright red. She was acting like this was the state finals. Madison had convinced herself that she would never get a chance to play when Carrie Metzger twisted her ankle and limped off in pain.
    â€œKincaid, get in there,” the coach shouted. Jumping up, she raced onto the field. Her adrenaline was pumping. If she could just have the chance to get a shot on goal, the coach would see how valuable she could be to the team.
    That chance came with a minute left. Marci had the ball and The Grove was moving upfield. Two defenders raced toward Marci, and she realized that she had to get rid of the ball. Marci looked to her left and saw that her closest teammate was being guarded. Then she turned to her right and saw Madison.
    No one was between Madison and the goal because the defenders were concentrating on The Grove’s stars. If Marci passed the ball, Madison would have a chance to score and win the game. Marci hesitated. Madison could read Marci’s thoughts: The last thing Marci wanted to do was make Madison Kincaid look good, but beating Prescott-Mather was even more important. She faked one way and sent a beautiful pass toward Madison.
    As Madison broke toward the ball, she calculated her next move. Only the goalie stood between her and victory. A short distance behind the goal was the forest. When Madison was inches from the ball, she saw movement in the trees.
    Standing on the edge of the woods, staring at Madison, was a girl who looked exactly like Ann Beck.
    Madison’s mouth dropped open. She took her eyes off the ball and tripped over it. Her feet went flying and she hit the turf face-first. When she looked up, all she could see were feet racing by her. She pushed up to her hands and knees and saw players fighting for the ball, but all she could think of was the girl in the woods. Had she seen Ann or had her eyes played tricks on her?
    Remembering the game, she leaped to her feet. Before she could get to the battling players, the whistle blew and the tie game was over.
    â€œThanks for nothing, you spaz,” Marci shouted at her angrily as she raced toward the bench. Madison hung