What in the world…?
    She backed away from the painting.
    “Isla! There you are.”
    Isla yelped. She spun around, pulse skittering. Jody stood in the music room doorway, her forehead wrinkled and marring the prefect smoothness of her fawn-colored complexion.
    “You okay?”
    Nodding, Isla glanced at the painting. Crazy.
    Jody followed her gaze. “What is it?”
    Isla could only point.
    Seeming concerned, Jody stepped past Isla and up to the canvas. After staring at it a moment, she shrugged. “I don’t get it. I just see a paining.”
    “It moved,” Isla whispered.
    “What? Moved?” Jody frowned. “What’re you talking about?”
    Isla stared at her foster mom. How could she explain? No one would ever believe her. She didn’t really believe herself. Yet she’d felt that grass between her fingers.
    Jody blinked a few times, then offered a placating smile. “Camille made snacks. Why don’t you come get some with me?”
    “Okay.” But her feet seemed stuck to the rug.
    Jody paused another moment, then sighed and stepped out of the room.
    Isla clenched her hands. I was just a stupid painting. And she was a lot of things, but crazy had never been one of them. She stared at it, ignoring her racing pulse. Fear wouldn’t get the best of her, either. She lifted her hand and thrust it into the middle of the tree.
    Her whole body fell through.