"Give me your wild vegetables!"
"Those are mine!" I spit back, balancing a basket against my hip, breath sharp with the hill climb. A crowd of kids is watching from the path like they expect a show.
"Hand them over, Miao," Xiaohua says. Her grin is wide and mean. "Or learn to keep your hands to yourself."
"You're not Xiaohua," I say. "I'm—"
She shoves the basket. Hard. The basket tips. Leaves scatter like a bad promise.
"Watch it!" someone yells.
"She pushed her!" another voice says, and the hillside explodes into shouting and pointing.
I step to right myself and the world pitches. My foot scrapes rock. The ground decides. I go down.
"Let her alone!" Old Zhang's voice is far. "Get up, girl!"
Pain slaps across my shoulder. Not a dramatic, clean pain, just noise and heat and the awareness that my body has betrayed me. I try to grab the path. My fingers miss the dirt. Someone's boot lands near my ribs. A hand pins down my wrist.
"Quit squirming," Xiaohua says. "You always ruin things."
"Who started it?" a boy near the top demands.
"She was stealing," Xiaohua says. "She took a turn more than once."
"That's a lie!" I shout. My voice is thinner than I expect. People murmur.
"Shut up, thief," Xiaohua answers and laughs like she owns the hillside.
Bai Shuyi's answer is a sharp bark. "You shut your mouth, Xiaohua. You saw nothing. Take your hand
