They kept traveling through Canada, living off the land since they had no money.

“I want to be very clear right now,” Bright Star said, “if Moonstone remembers nothing of this trip, we’ll tell her that we went to visit her Aunt Bright Sun in New York when she was little, am I clear?”

Both companions nodded. Moonstone sucked her thumb.

They were going through some sort of bog when it happened.

“A successful tracker,” said a voice from behind, “can track his prey for long distances.”

Bright Star brought Black Night to a stop and didn’t turn in her saddle. She knew who it was. “How did you get here?”

“I followed,” Wolf’s Cry explained, riding his horse up along them. “I must admit, it was quite the adventure trying to track you in the rain! Bright Star, I’m surprised you didn’t pick up on me before.”

“OK, OK,” Bright Star nudged Wolf’s Cry, “sibling rivalry, I get it. I should’ve been a little more careful watching for family members. Though, of course, your horse was Black Night’s mate. You never could track anything, Wolf’s Cry, you’re taking credit for something your horse did.”

Wolf’s Cry laughed.

Soon, they were in the U.S. again, however, and Bright Star had to go and ask for help.

Bright Star walked alone into the nurse’s room of the hospital where Bright Sun worked. Bright Star opened the wooden door and smiled. Her face quickly fell. There was Edward, holding Bright Sun by the scruff of the collar, and he had a gun to her side.

“You’re back on U.S. ground, Bright Star,” he snarled, “and you’re not going to survive until Oregon.”

Bright Star stood, undecided as to what to do. Should she run or stay?

“I’ve been hunting you a long time,” Edward continued. “You may not have known, but I always did. Ever since you went on to the reservation, I picked you out from the crowd of Injuns. And you know what? I’m not playing games anymore, little girl.”

Bright Star’s life swept before her eyes. She had always been running, running, running, and running. Had she ever not been running? But her senses took over, and she ran. But Edward was always there, keeping stride, where ever she went. She went from room to room to room, rushing in and out. But she couldn’t shake Edward.

She was getting winded, she was getting tired. Her breathing turned into panting; her fear turned into utter desperation. She called for strength, but strength wouldn’t come. She tripped, she fell, and a gunshot went off.