“Congratulations,” Mallory said, not smiling. “You’ve activated your bond. Now the real test begins.”
Then came the clearing. And the sinkhole.
The ground gave way without warning—no cracks, no tremors. The other ducks hadn’t quacked because they only prepared for the obvious . But Pockets had been quacking about everything , including the tiny, unnatural silence of the crickets near that spot.
Leo looked at Pockets, who gave one tiny, proud quack . And from that day on, Leo never tied his shoes without hearing it.
He reached the floating nest first.
It was the first day at , and nine-year-old Leo had no idea what he’d signed up for. His mom had found the flyer tacked to a telephone pole: “DuckQWackPrep – For Exceptional Waterfowl & Exceptional Children.” Leo thought it was a joke. But here he was, standing at the edge of a misty pond, holding a rubber duck that seemed to be staring at him.
