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Chapters (77)
  1. Cover
  2. Title
  3. Also by Silas House
  4. Dedication
  5. Epigraph
  6. Contents
  7. Part One
  8. 1
  9. 2
  10. 3
  11. 4
  12. 5
  13. 6
  14. 7
  15. 8
  16. 9
  17. 10
  18. 11
  19. 12
  20. 13
  21. 14
  22. 15
  23. 16
  24. 17
  25. 18
  26. Part Two
  27. 1
  28. 2
  29. 3
  30. 4
  31. 5
  32. 6
  33. 7
  34. 8
  35. 9
  36. 10
  37. Part Three
  38. 1
  39. 2
  40. 3
  41. 4
  42. 5
  43. 6
  44. 7
  45. 8
  46. 9
  47. 10
  48. 11
  49. 12
  50. 13
  51. 14
  52. 15
  53. 16
  54. 17
  55. 18
  56. 19
  57. 20
  58. 21
  59. 22
  60. 23
  61. 24
  62. 25
  63. 26
  64. 27
  65. 28
  66. 29
  67. 30
  68. 31
  69. Part Four
  70. 1
  71. 2
  72. 3
  73. Epilogue: The Everything
  74. Acknowledgments
  75. About the Author
  76. About Algonquin
  77. Copyright

Hurry up hurry up hurry up.

“You know, the word for when somebody is expected to be a certain way.”

The cop was out of his car and fishing back into the cab now, digging for something between the seats.

“A stereotype?” Justin offered.

Asher looked down at his son as if in slow motion. He wished for the noise of the blaring television, anything to distract him from the feeling of nausea and the cold sweat that ran down the backs of his arms.

“Yeah, that’s it!” Adalia said. She was taking ages to put everything in the bag.

Hurry hurry hurry.

“A walking stereotype, a cop that eats the doughnuts. You’re a smart one!”

Asher grabbed hold of Justin’s wrist with one hand and the bag with the other as Adalia shoved it across the counter at long last. He would will his feet to move and then he would glide right on out of there. If the trooper had come for him then this was the end, already. But if he hadn’t, they had to walk out of there right now.

Adalia brought her eyes up to light on Asher’s. He felt as if he had known her a long while, as if their lives might forever be entangled from this moment on.

“I’ll say a prayer for you, darlin,” she said. “For your travels to the beach.”

“I appreciate it,” Asher said, like someone else was speaking.

The state trooper stepped back to hold the door wide open for Asher and Justin, his face hidden beneath the shadows of his hat.

“Hey there, little man,” the cop said, and Justin stopped.

“Hello,” Justin said in a small voice, and skipped to the Jeep.

Asher turned the ignition, shoved the Jeep into gear, and darted back onto the highway, fighting the urge to peel out and leave scorching black rubber behind them as they hit the open road.

4

4

As they sped down I-24 the heat was so thick they could see it from a long way off, a hazy mist striping the hillsides.

Only seven o’clock in the morning but they were already close to the state line. Blue mountains rose in the distance, smudged behind the wooly June heat. The Smokies.

Justin leaned on the door and let his hand float up and down on the rushing air. He had asked Asher to take the top off the Jeep but they’d be too visible. Asher wondered what all was going through Justin’s mind. He was staring out the passenger window, earbuds in his ears and his music turned up so loud Asher could hear it. Then he pulled one earbud out. “Are we going to do stuff that kidnapped people do in movies?”

“You’re not kidnapped, Justin. You’re my son.”

“But we’re on the run. Ain’t we?”

“Just until I can figure out how to get the judge to listen to me.”