The Forest of Sleepers (Nowhere Book 2)

t w en t y - t h r e e: s l e e p e r s

In one sense, the Bests were destined to be kings. They knew this. Their neighbors knew this. California knew this.

If being a king meant being in power, the Bests had always been so. If being a king meant having riches, the Bests had plenty. If being a king was merely a title, then the Bests ruled the world.

But the Bests had not always been kings. They had been born in poverty and they had died in poverty.

There was only a gap in the middle where the Bests were undoubtedly royalty.

That much made sense.

The rest did not.

Wyatt's grandfather had been a mill worker in Poland before he was killed during an air raid. His great-grandfather had been the same but married three times with three children by different women.

His family history beyond that was muddled. Half of his distant cousins weren't even sure who their real fathers were.

He hadn't even known he'd had a brother.

So Wyatt sat against a black tree in Gwydyr, waiting for something to explain it all to him as his heart hammered out an erratic beat in his ears.

Sweat beaded on his forehead even though he shivered uncontrollably, his hands numb.

He'd only ever had two panic attacks in his life.

The first time Wyatt had a panic attack was when he was six years old. Oddly, it had nothing to do with the world war raging on his front porch.

He remembered the cloudy, drizzly day as if it had happened mere hours ago. He was wearing shorts that went above his knees and a sweater vest. It was the only good outfit he had.

Though his family had nothing when they lived in Holland, he still managed to go to school. He'd put grease from the breakfast pan in his hair to make it look like the other boys in class. No one suspected that he was poor.

On this day, as Wyatt did arithmetic at his desk, he was called to the dean's office. He had no idea why because, of course, he had done nothing wrong.

Once he got to the office, the dean assured him that he wasn't in trouble, but was going to be charged with one of the new students--a little boy with blond hair and bright red lips. Wyatt would be expected to show him around and make him feel comfortable at his new school.

The new student was named Stuart Kaminska.

At first, Stuart's shyness sparked a sort of heroism in Wyatt. He would see that his new classmate would be accepted and welcomed by the others; that the others would include and befriend him.

It was not the others that Wyatt had to worry about.

The dean had barely even closed his door to leave them alone before Stuart ran away.

Wyatt chased him down the hall, not wanting to call after him too loudly, then out to the playground where he coaxed him to come back to class.

This was the first incident.

The second had to do with Stuart placing fire ants in Mrs. Nowak's purse.

Weeks passed and soon it became clear to Stuart that Wyatt was the enemy of fun, making Wyatt his new target.

What the dean only meant to last for a day, Wyatt extended for months. Stuart was his responsibility. He was to blame for Stuart's actions, whatever they were.

The panic attack came on a Tuesday.

Stuart's smile was as wicked as ever as he stood atop the small wooden playground in the courtyard.