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Back This Side of Night Save as PDF
Chapters (110)
  1. Cover
  2. ALSO BY J. TODD SCOTT
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. PROLOGUE
  6. I
  7. II
  8. PART ONE
  9. ONE
  10. TWO
  11. THREE
  12. FOUR
  13. FIVE
  14. SIX
  15. SEVEN
  16. EIGHT
  17. NINE
  18. TEN
  19. ELEVEN
  20. TWELVE
  21. PART TWO
  22. THIRTEEN
  23. FOURTEEN
  24. FIFTEEN
  25. SIXTEEN
  26. SEVENTEEN
  27. EIGHTEEN
  28. NINETEEN
  29. TWENTY
  30. TWENTY-ONE
  31. TWENTY-TWO
  32. TWENTY-THREE
  33. TWENTY-FOUR
  34. TWENTY-FIVE
  35. TWENTY-SIX
  36. TWENTY-SEVEN
  37. TWENTY-EIGHT
  38. TWENTY-NINE
  39. THIRTY
  40. THIRTY-ONE
  41. THIRTY-TWO
  42. THIRTY-THREE
  43. THIRTY-FOUR
  44. THIRTY-FIVE
  45. THIRTY-SIX
  46. THIRTY-SEVEN
  47. THIRTY-EIGHT
  48. THIRTY-NINE
  49. PART THREE
  50. FORTY
  51. FORTY-ONE
  52. FORTY-TWO
  53. FORTY-THREE
  54. FORTY-FOUR
  55. FORTY-FIVE
  56. FORTY-SIX
  57. FORTY-SEVEN
  58. FORTY-EIGHT
  59. FORTY-NINE
  60. FIFTY
  61. FIFTY-ONE
  62. FIFTY-TWO
  63. FIFTY-THREE
  64. FIFTY-FOUR
  65. FIFTY-FIVE
  66. FIFTY-SIX
  67. FIFTY-SEVEN
  68. FIFTY-EIGHT
  69. FIFTY-NINE
  70. SIXTY
  71. SIXTY-ONE
  72. PART FOUR
  73. SIXTY-TWO
  74. SIXTY-THREE
  75. SIXTY-FOUR
  76. SIXTY-FIVE
  77. SIXTY-SIX
  78. SIXTY-SEVEN
  79. SIXTY-EIGHT
  80. SIXTY-NINE
  81. SEVENTY
  82. SEVENTY-ONE
  83. SEVENTY-TWO
  84. SEVENTY-THREE
  85. SEVENTY-FOUR
  86. SEVENTY-FIVE
  87. SEVENTY-SIX
  88. SEVENTY-SEVEN
  89. SEVENTY-EIGHT
  90. SEVENTY-NINE
  91. EIGHTY
  92. EIGHTY-ONE
  93. EIGHTY-TWO
  94. EIGHTY-THREE
  95. EIGHTY-FOUR
  96. EPILOGUE
  97. I
  98. II
  99. III
  100. IV
  101. V
  102. VI
  103. VII
  104. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  105. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  106. Excerpt from LOST RIVER
  107. LITTLE PARIS
  108. DILLON
  109. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  110. What’s next onyour reading list?

His face and hair caught fire, so did his eyes, and although he survived, every doctor said he was never going to see the same again, making it hard—painful, in fact—for him to read. It was like there was a small sun constantly rising and setting in front of his face, the flames that had burned him forever trapped in his ruined eyes.

The fact that Chris later captured Earl, who was ultimately stabbed to death in his bed in the hospital unit of a federal penitentiary, was cold comfort for Emiliano’s parents. Even less for Marco, who abandoned school and came back to Murfee to help them rebuild and care for his younger brother.

Marco had left Murfee wanting to be a doctor, but returned that morning after the fire, when the ashes were still black and wet and cooling and everyone could still smell the smoke hanging over the town. Something even the miraculous storm couldn’t wash away fast enough.

Later that same day he walked into the department and asked what he needed to do to be a sheriff’s deputy.

Chris had liked Marco from the start. He was bright, articulate, with a good head on his shoulders. Had a natural disposition for dealing with people, for disarming them. He’d be a good deputy if he kept at it, but would have made an even better doctor. He should have been a doctor. Chris hoped he could talk him into going back to school, where he truly belonged and where he could make a difference.

If any good could come out of him losing this reelection, it might be that.

After wrangling with the sign, Chris caught Marco staring back down the road again at the high school they’d both attended. Big Bend Central sprawled under the blue sky, with Archer-Ross stadium hulking behind it. Chris had played football in that stadium when it was still brand-new, remembering the smell of the freshly painted Raiders logo in the locker room and standing on the artificial turf in his bare feet right after it had been put down. He threw the first touchdown in that stadium, a thirty-yarder to Nat Bulger that Chris had lost in the brand-new Musco lights right after he let it go, never seeing it come down. He only knew what had happened after he heard the crowd yell, chanting his name.

His dad had been there, and Nat Bulger’s dad, Matty, cheering as loud as anyone. And Sheriff Stanford Ross.

The last time Chris had actually been inside the stadium was the night of his high school graduation, a decade ago. Although he’d been able to return to Murfee, he couldn’t bring himself to go back into that place.