But Lizzie was speechless. She simply held up the hairbrush, clumps of yellow hair dangling from it. Minka screamed, clapping her hands to her head. But it was too late. Much of her hair had separated from her scalp, and it lay in a mound in Lizzie’s lap, like a fairy-tale pile of straw that had been spun into gold. Lizzie is shy and nervous, but when her sister Minka falls prey to a mysterious boy at the marketplace and his strange fruit, she must […]
“Who knows upon what soil they fed/ Their hungry thirsty roots?”
Goblin Market by Diane Zahler
