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pinto had black-and-white spots.”
    â€œA lot of horses do,” I snap.
    â€œDo a lot of horses have one big spot that looks like a saddle?” Grayson demands. “Jinx does.”
    I can’t answer. I feel like I’ve been kicked in the stomach by a wild horse. My favorite spot. Dream’s biggest spot. It’s shaped like a shiny black saddle.

8

    Fiery Furnace
    Sunday morning when I wake up, my head hurts. I know I’ve had a horrible nightmare. Only I can’t remember it.
    Then I do remember. The worst nightmare I’ve ever had . . . and it was real.
    Someone wants to take away my Dream.
    Panic stabs both sides of my head. I rush to my window, open it, and scream, “Dream! Dream! Dream!”
    Dream gallops to my window. She sticks her head inside. I sit on the window ledge and run my fingers down her blaze. I memorize this jagged streak of white lightning that spreads down to her nostrils. A miracle of God’s creation.
    I stay like this, afraid to leave my horse, until Mom hollers that I have to get ready for church.
    I can’t eat, so I just pick at my scrambled eggs until they look like my brain feels. After a few minutes, Mom tells me to get dressed.
    I pull clothes from my closet and put them on. But if somebody were to ask me what I’m wearing, I’d have no idea.
    A horn honks. Suddenly I realize the house feels really quiet. Everybody else must be in the car already. I take one more long look out the window to make sure Dream is still there. Then I drag myself to the car and climb into the backseat.
    â€œWhere’s Ethan?” Dad asks. He signs it too, as if Ethan were here to sign back.
    I shrug.
    â€œThat boy’s never late,” Mom says. “He’s probably worried about that little fish that’s looking so poorly.” She squints out the back window. “There he is. I think he’s coming from Colt’s house.”
    In a minute Ethan hops in. Sorry. I was talking to Colt.
    Nobody says anything. We all know what they were talking about.
    Our car has never been so quiet. I stare out the window on the way to church and imagine I’m riding Dream. Dream and I have ridden every road in Hamilton. I picture us galloping now, keeping pace with the car. I imagine jumping ditches and hedges as we pass by.
    I close my eyes. I don’t want to imagine anything else.
    Dad parks the car, and I follow Ethan into church. We take the front right pew because that’s where the interpreter, Mrs. Gorton, stands. Mrs. Gorton has white hair and could play Mrs. Santa Claus without a costume. She signs all the songs, the announcements, and the sermon. Sometimes I watch her to see what she leaves out so I can tell Ethan later.
    Only not today. This morning I’m not watching or listening. My head feels like it’s underwater—so deep nobody can get to me. I stand up and sit down when Ethan does. But I don’t sing. Ethan sways to the music even though he can’t hear it. He says he can feel the organ vibrate. And I guess he can, because he’s always right with the rhythm. His fingers move through the lyrics, signing the words, and I know he’s singing in his heart.
    But I’m not.
    I don’t hear a word of the sermon until halfway through, when Ethan elbows me.
    Don’t you wish Colt were here? he signs.
    I frown at him and shrug. Then I hear Pastor Alan say, “They refused to worship Nebuchadnezzar, even when he threatened to throw them into the fiery furnace.” I figure he must be talking about Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego.
    â€œThey told the king that they knew God could save them from getting burned to death. But even if God didn’t come to their rescue, they’d still be okay. They could get through anything because God would be with them. And when old Nebuchadnezzar peeked into that fiery furnace, he saw four people walking around. Our three friends had the Lord with them, even in