Homesick

Two whole weeks at Gran's farm with no home, no room, and no parents. Can Junie find the courage to stop missing home and start living where she is?

The car kept driving away. Junie watched it shrink down Gran's long dirt road until it was just a brown smudge, and then it was nothing at all. Her parents were inside that smudge, on their way to the airport, and Junie was standing in a yard that smelled like hay and chickens and somebody else's life.

Two weeks. Fourteen whole days. It sounded like a number you could fit in your pocket, but it felt as wide as the sky.

'Well, then,' said Gran, wiping her hands on her apron. 'You and me, kiddo. Let's get your bag inside before the geese decide it's theirs.'

Junie nodded, because nodding was easier than talking when your throat felt like a stuck door.