Chapters (110)
- Cover
- ALSO BY J. TODD SCOTT
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- PROLOGUE
- I
- II
- PART ONE
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- PART TWO
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- PART THREE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- FIFTY-EIGHT
- FIFTY-NINE
- SIXTY
- SIXTY-ONE
- PART FOUR
- SIXTY-TWO
- SIXTY-THREE
- SIXTY-FOUR
- SIXTY-FIVE
- SIXTY-SIX
- SIXTY-SEVEN
- SIXTY-EIGHT
- SIXTY-NINE
- SEVENTY
- SEVENTY-ONE
- SEVENTY-TWO
- SEVENTY-THREE
- SEVENTY-FOUR
- SEVENTY-FIVE
- SEVENTY-SIX
- SEVENTY-SEVEN
- SEVENTY-EIGHT
- SEVENTY-NINE
- EIGHTY
- EIGHTY-ONE
- EIGHTY-TWO
- EIGHTY-THREE
- EIGHTY-FOUR
- EPILOGUE
- I
- II
- III
- IV
- V
- VI
- VII
- AUTHOR’S NOTE
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- Excerpt from LOST RIVER
- LITTLE PARIS
- DILLON
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- What’s next onyour reading list?
America thought it was too cold for ice cream, but Zita had insisted, and she was laughing now with Danny, showing off the cowboy hat he’d bought her in Nathan so she’d stop taking his. It looked good on her, natural, and although no one knew exactly what was going to happen to her next, for now she was staying with America, and America had come to enjoy having her around. Danny definitely did, and made a big show of buying her presents. It was hard for him to say no to the girl.
Maybe he just understood her.
Zita woke up some nights crying, chased by dark dreams of her time with Fox Uno and the things she’d seen, the same way Danny’s sleep had been troubled. He’d started seeing Dr. Harlow, finally talking about his time in Afghanistan, about things he’d only hinted at to America, and that had been going well. So well that Zita was going to do the same. With America translating for him, Danny promised he’d go with her and sit next to her and hold her hand the whole time if she wanted. He told her it hurt at first to talk about such things, but the more you talked, the easier it became, and the less they bothered you. Although it seemed natural to try to forget and bury all the bad things that happened to you, all those horrible memories, it didn’t really work that way. You couldn’t ignore them or bury them; instead, you had to get them out of you, like the venom of a snakebite. If you didn’t work to heal them, they only made you sicker and sicker over time.
Those bad memories became poisonous dreams. They poisoned everything and everyone you loved.
The sun settled and shadows stretched down the street. The lamps on Main Street were coming on, one at a time. A cool glow, like a dozen tiny, distant stars. Her ribs and shoulder still hurt from the bullet she’d taken. Her vest had stopped most of it, but it had nearly punctured her lung. Most of her chest was still a purple bruise, tender to the touch, and it would be a long time fading.
She’d spoken with Agent Garrison a few times since that night. She’d told him everything about Fox Uno, all the conversations they’d had after he came to Murfee. Garrison had promised his people were looking for her mama and her papa, but so far there’d been no word on them. Fox Uno had been truthful in his debriefings so far, but he hadn’t been any more helpful. No one knew where they were, or if they were alive.