The crowd thought the boy in the wheelchair was helpless-until the wild mustang lowered his head to his boots

still. Cinder breathed against his sweatshirt.

Marcus looked at Jonah.

The anger had not disappeared from his face. It was too deep for that, too earned. But something had opened beneath it. Surprise, maybe. Or the first proof that his body still had ways to reach the world.

“I did that?” he asked.

“You asked,” Jonah said. “He answered.”

Marcus looked back continue reading …