Excerpt
Let the Sky Fall andlt;link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../styles/9781442450431.css"andgt; andlt;h2 andgt;andlt;a id="ch01"andgt;andlt;/aandgt;andlt;a id="page_1"andgt;andlt;/aandgt;CHAPTER 1andlt;/h2andgt; andlt;BRandgt;VANEandlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Iand#8217;m lucky to be alive.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;At least, thatand#8217;s what everybody keeps telling me.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;The reporter from the local newspaper even had the nerve to call it a miracle. I was and#8220;Vane Weston: The Miracle Child.and#8221; Like the police finding me unconscious in a pile of rubble was part of some grand universal plan.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;and#8220;Family Survives Tornadoand#8221;and#8212;now, that wouldand#8217;ve been a miracle. But trust me, thereand#8217;s nothing and#8220;miraculousand#8221; about being orphaned at seven years old.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Itand#8217;s not that Iand#8217;m not grateful to be alive. I am. I get that I shouldnand#8217;t have survived. But thatand#8217;s the worst part about being and#8220;The Miracle Child.and#8221;andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;The question.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;andlt;a id="page_2"andgt;andlt;/aandgt;The same inescapable question, plaguing me for the last ten years of my life.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;How?andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;How could I get sucked in by a category-five tornadoand#8212;natureand#8217;s equivalent of a giant blenderand#8212;get carried over four miles before the massive funnel spit me back out, and only have a few cuts and bruises to show for it? How was that possible, when my parentsand#8217; bodies were found almost unrecognizable?andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;The police donand#8217;t know.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Scientists donand#8217;t know.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;So they all turn to me for the answer.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;But I have no freaking idea.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;I canand#8217;t remember it. That day. My past. Anything.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Well, I canand#8217;t remember anything useful.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;I remember fear.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;I remember wind.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;And thenand#160;.and#160;.and#160;. a giant, blank space. Like all my memories were knocked out of my head when I hit the ground.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Except one.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;One isolated memoryand#8212;and Iand#8217;m not even sure if it is a memory, or if itand#8217;s some strange hallucination my traumatized brain cooked up.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;A face, watching me through the chaos of the storm.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;A girl. Dark hair. Darker eyes. A single tear streaks down her cheek. Then a chilly breeze whisks her away.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Sheand#8217;s haunted my dreams ever since.