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    Sought
    Sought
    Sought
    Ebook41 pages40 minutes

    Sought

    By Margaret Peterson Haddix

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    About this ebook

    Return to the world of The Missing with this e-only short story!

    Thirteen-year-old Daniella McCarthy begins receiving a series of unusual phone calls right before her family moves from Michigan to Ohio. How is it that total strangers seem to know more about her background than she does? And could it be possible that these strangers also know something about her future?
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSimon & Schuster Books for Young Readers
    Release dateAug 6, 2013
    ISBN9781442498211
    Sought
    Author

    Margaret Peterson Haddix

    Margaret Peterson Haddix grew up on a farm in Ohio. As a kid, she knew two girls who had the exact same first, middle, and last names and shared the same birthday—only one year apart—and she always thought that was bizarre. As an adult, Haddix worked as a newspaper reporter and copy editor in Indiana before her first book, Running Out of Time, was published. She has since written more than forty books for kids and teens, including the Greystone Secrets series, the Shadow Children series, the Missing series, the Children of Exile series, and lots of stand-alones. Haddix and her husband, Doug, now live in Columbus, Ohio, where they raised their two kids. You can learn more about her at haddixbooks.com.

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    • 5/5
      Great addition to the rest of the series and gives a little bit more background on Daniela.

    Book preview

    Sought - Margaret Peterson Haddix

    title.jpgtitle.jpg

    So this kid calls me, totally out of the blue. It’s early morning, before school, and my mom would tell you that I should have been busy figuring out which pile of clothes my purple Converse were under and whatever happened to the math homework I did last night. (Well, I did half of it. Maybe a fourth. I never was good with fractions.)

    Technically I guess I’m kind of exaggerating about the kid calling me. It’s the house phone that rings—the old-fashioned landline that my old-fashioned parents think they still have to have hooked up or, I don’t know, the world as we know it might end. But who can resist a ringing phone? I pick it up in the upstairs hallway as I walk past after brushing my teeth. I’m thinking it’s going to be someone selling windows or siding or something boring like that, and I always feel like it’s my duty to give people like that a wacky conversation so they have something interesting to tell their families when they get home from work.

    One time I convinced a magazine salesman that I had a pet squirrel named Lulubelle whose life was so endangered by living in the same cage as my giant guinea pig, Nebuchadnezzar, that the guy called the SPCA.

    My mom was not happy when the county animal control officer showed up at our front door.

    But anyhow, answering the phone, all I’m thinking about is making up a good prank, one I haven’t used before.

    If I can convince the window/siding/whatever salesman I’m my mom—if he calls me Mrs. McCarthy and everything—then . . .

    Hello? I say. It comes out sounding odd, because I’m still trying to decide whether I want to use a fake accent. British? French? Of course, Australian is always fun. . . .

    Uh, hello, the voice on the other end of the line says. Uh, Daniella?

    Okay, this is weird. Nobody ever calls me on the landline—that’s what my cell phone is for. And it’s a kid, not some friend of Mom’s who might know me. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s a kid about my age (thirteen), because, you know that weird thing a boy’s voice starts doing in middle school? Where it’s low, then high, then low, then high, and you can tell the boy’s just dying of embarrassment if he has to say more than two syllables? (If I were a boy, I would so totally use that to make everyone laugh all day long. I wouldn’t be embarrassed at all. It’d be fun.)

    That’s what this boy’s voice is doing—the roller coaster of pitches—but somehow it doesn’t seem funny right now.

    Maybe this is crazy, but what this boy’s voice makes me picture is someone with a gun to his head. Like—he’s that worried and stressed.

    And right

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