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

wanted to admit.

The first hour was miserable. His back cramped. His hands ached from the trip across the ruts. A fly landed on his jaw and came back every time he shook it off. Cinder paced and ignored him.

By the second hour, Jonah’s anger had burned down to something duller. There was nothing to do but breathe continue reading …