A Bull Named Ferdinand
Emily shivered and hugged her knees to her chest, pulling her thin nightgown down over her legs. The barn was cold and the hay around her prickly, but it was still better than being inside the house. From where she sat, she could see the kitchen light through the rickety loft window. She planned to wait until the house went dark, and then sneak back inside and into bed. If she was lucky, there would be no night-time visit to her room, no flick of the hallway light switch and consequent ominous silhouette appearing in the rectangle of light cast through her doorway.