" !” “Wow,” Miles said in mock sincerity. “That really does sound like a good part!” Daisy kicked him playfully in the shin. “C’mon,” Logan said, taking Miles by the arm. “Let’s let her read in peace. We only have a few minutes.” Miles made a big show of rubbing his shin as they left. Logan led the way to the far corner of the field, where the milkweed, clover, and marigolds grew. He tiptoed to the white clover bush and knelt in front of it. “He’s still there,” Logan whispered, pointing to the underside of a leaf. The caterpillar’s chrysalis hung by the thinnest of threads, like a silver strand of spun sugar. Logan had rigged up a temporary shelter for it out of some twigs and gauze. That way, if it rained or a big wind kicked up, it should be protected. He tested the twigs to make sure they were still sturdy, then took out his pencil and notebook, flipping quickly to the chart on the last page. He wanted to make sure Miles didn’t see his drawings. Not because they were bad—he freely admitted they were—but because most of them "

― Wendy Mass , The Candymakers (The Candymakers, #1)