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in Pennsylvania. She considered her first blister a badge of accomplishment.
    The rush after the dinner bell still intimidated Eden. Twenty-seven girls aged ten to fourteen swarmed the cafeteria. It was one of Eden’s new duties to help keep order. Voices were raised on topics that usually ranged from boys to rock stars, then back to boys. With a little luck, there was no jostling or shoving in line. But luck usually required an eagle eye.
    Camp Liberty’s glossy brochures had promised wholesome food. Tonight’s menu included crispy chicken, whipped potatoes and steamed broccoli. Flatware rattled on trays as the girls shuffled, cafeteria-style, down the serving line.
    â€œIt’s been a good day.” Candy stood beside Eden, her eyes shifting back and forth, as she managed to watch the entire room at once.
    â€œAnd nearly over.” Even as she said it, Eden realized her back didn’t ache quite as much as it had the first couple of days. “I’ve got two girls in the morning riding session who show real promise. I was hoping I could give them a little extra time a couple of days a week.”
    â€œGreat, we’ll check the schedule.” Candy watched one of the counselors convince a camper to put a stem of broccoli on her plate. “I wanted to tell you that you handled Roberta and company beautifully. Kitchen detail was an inspiration.”
    â€œThanks.” Eden realized how low her pride had fallen when such a small thing made her glow. “I did have a twinge of guilt about dumping them on Mrs. Petrie.”
    â€œThe report is they behaved like troopers.”
    â€œRoberta?”
    â€œI know.” Candy’s smile was wry. Both women turned to see the girl in question, already seated and eating daintily. “It’s like waiting for the other shoe to drop. Eden, do you remember Marcia Delacroix from Camp Forden?”
    â€œHow could I forget?” With the bulk of the campers seated, Eden and Candy joined the line. “She was the one who put the garter snake in Miss Forden’s lingerie drawer.”
    â€œYeah.” She turned to give Roberta another look. “Do you believe in reincarnation?”
    With a laugh, Eden accepted a scoop of potatoes. “Let’s just say I’ll be checking my underwear.” Hefting the tray, she started forward. “You know, Candy, I—” She saw it as if in slow motion. Roberta, the devil’s own gleam in her eyes, held her fork vertically, a thick blob of potatoes clinging to the tines. Aim was taken as Roberta pulled back the business end of the fork with an expert flick. Even as Eden opened her mouth, Roberta sent the blob sailing into the hair of the girl across from her. Pandemonium.
    Globs of potatoes flew. Girls screamed. More retaliated. In a matter of seconds, floors, tables, chairs and adolescents were coated in a messy layer of white. Like a general leading the way into battle, Candy stepped into the chaos and lifted her whistle. Before she had the chance to blow it, she was hit, right between the eyes.
    A shocked silence fell.
    With her tray still in her hands, Eden stood, afraid to breathe. One breath, one little breath, she thought, and she would dissolve into helpless laughter. She felt the pressure of a giggle in her lungs as Candy slowly wiped the dollop of potato from the bridge of her nose.
    â€œYoung ladies.” The two words, delivered in Candy’s most ferocious voice, had Eden’s breath catching in her throat. “You will finish your meal in silence. Absolute silence. As you finish, you will line up against this wall. When the dinner hour is over, you will be issued rags, mops and buckets. The mess area will shine tonight.”
    â€œYes, Miss Bartholomew.” The acknowledgment came in murmured unison. Only Roberta, her hands folded neatly, her face a picture of innocence, responded in clear tones.
    After a long ten seconds of silent staring, Candy walked