Free The Hiding Place by David Bell

more worried about her going out and getting knocked up like her mom did in high school.
    But sometimes she worried about what Kevin thought. He always acted like he didn’t mind. He made jokes all the time about his race, going so far as to refer to the two of them as the “salt and pepper twins” when they went places together, but she absolutely didn’t want him to ever think the views of certain narrow-minded and stupid people in the town had somehow become her own. She didn’t want to suffer guilt by association, so sometimes she avoided the topic of Dante.
    The house came into view, and every time it did, Ashleigh’s heart dropped a little. It wasn’t a bad house. The rooms were big enough, and her mom and grandpa did a decent job of keeping it in shape. But it wasn’t
her
house. For the past three years, she and her mom had rented a cute little bungalow near downtown on Park Street. The morning sun lit Ashleigh’s bedroom there, and they lived side by side with young couples and college kids. At least once a month, Ashleigh asked her mother why they couldn’t just move out and get their old place back, just the two of them. Her mom always explained that this was a financial decision, that when Grandpa lost his job he needed help in order to keep the family home.
And besides, Grandpa needs us,
her mom would say.
We’re all he’s got.
    Ashleigh never said it out loud, but she thought it: He doesn’t have me. Only a few more years, and I’m off to college. Ohio State. Miami. Cincinnati. Bowling Green. As long as it’s college and as long as it’s away.
    Ashleigh entered the dark, quiet house. No surprise. Her grandfather liked to keep the place closed up and sealed. Like a bank vault. Or a morgue. Both Ashleigh and her mom went around behind the old man, opening blinds he closed or pulling open curtains he’d yanked shut. Ashleigh liked windows and air and light. The house on Park Street had had all of those things.
    She stopped in the kitchen for a quick glass of water, then planned on slipping up to her room. She hoped her mother wasn’t home, that she wouldn’t have to face the usual interrogation. Her mother’s questions were the bane of her existence.
Where were you? Who were you with? Why did you go there?
She knew her mom was still a little freaked by her uncle’s death, but come on.
I’m fifteen. Fifteen.
    Ashleigh could just imagine her mom’s response to where she’d just been.
First I tried to find the creepy guy from the porch. And then I saw the guy who killed your brother—at the crime scene.
    “Ash?”
    Ashleigh froze, the glass of water halfway to her mouth. Her mother must have been upstairs, maybe even napping. Ashleigh wanted to slip away, but knew she couldn’t.
    “I’m here,” Ashleigh said, giving in. As much as her mom annoyed her, Ashleigh found it hard to be outright mean to her. Or ignore her. If they were all her grandpa had, Ashleigh knew she was all her mom had.
    Her mom came into the kitchen. She was wearing a T-shirt and sweatpants and looked tired. Maybe she had been asleep. Her hair looked flat, her face without makeup.
    “Where were you all day?” her mom asked.
    “I was with Kevin.”
    “Where?”
    Ashleigh sighed. She took a long drink of water, then filled the glass again.
    “Don’t sigh,” her mom said. “Where were you?”
    “We went to see a friend, but he wasn’t home. So then Kevin had to go to work, and I came home.”
    “You’ve been gone since before I went to work.”
    “Mom, please? It’s summer. You said as long as I kept my grades up—”
    “Do you know why I’m mad at you?”
    “Mad at me?”
    Her mom’s brow was furrowed, the lines at the corners of her mouth deepened and exaggerated. She looked ugly when she was like this. She looked like life was chiseling its marks onto her face.
    “You were supposed to be here today,” her mom said. “That reporter came by.”
    Shit. The reporter.
    “I forgot.”
    The words sounded