mouth would surely give her away. It did. She could tell by the look on his face, all stern and thunderclouded. His thin grey eyebrows bunched together, and his grey eyes sparked with outright fury.
Moana stepped forward.
"It was just . . . she was just . . . Kiri was really, really hungry and . . ."
"I stole a peach," she announced, hands on hips. "And I ate it. And I don't care if you throw me out and make me tread water forever, I don't care."
"You said that you didn't care twice."
"I don't care."
The old man sighed, deeply and with, Maona thought, a breath of regret.
"I won't make you tread water forever, Kiri. And I'm not that mad, Maona," he hesitated. "This has happened before, and I would forgive you. But . . ."
Kiri shrank into her robe, quivering. There it was, the 'but.' She'd known it was coming a long time now, like the way some people know when a storm's coming. Finally, she would know what happened to those who hurt the old man's trees one too many times.
"I knew this day would come."
Kiri blinked.
"I think it would be best for you to see the world. Once you've seen it, you will know that the island is better. Because it is. I'm sure you will return when you see fit."
The world? The two exchanged startled glances. This was the first they'd ever heard any mention of a place beyond the island and its orchards. The world. Kiri decided she liked the sound of it.
"Sir?"
"Yes, Maona?"
"You can't do this to Kiri! What if she never finds her way back? What if she is lost forever? Who knows what might happen to her!"
"Which is why you will go with her, Maona."