Afternoon of the Elves — Janet Taylor Lisle

EVERYONE WARNED HILLARY
about Sara-Kate Connolly, the sullen, too-thin girl who lived in a dilapidated house down the hill. "She's too old for you," her friends said. "She's definitely not a person you can trust. Stay away from her."

But how could Hillary, nine, stay away from the delicate stick houses, "small enough for mice," that appeared one day in Sara-Kate's junky backyard?

"I thought you might like to see an elf village for a change," Sara-Kate announced when she'd invited Hillary through the hedge. "If you don't believe it's elves, that's your problem. I know it's elves."

Whatever doubts Hillary might have had vanished on the afternoon she saw the Ferris wheel. One look told her it was the work of special hands, and that Sara-Kate was no ordinary eleven-year-old.

Who was this mysterious girl with her tiny but ferocious eyes? Why did no one ever see her mother? Was her father really a criminal, in jail, as people said? The urge to find out finally leads Hillary past the elf houses to the bleak and secretive threshold of Sara-Kate's own.