Free The Hiding Place by David Bell Page A

hollow even to her own ears. Her voice came from far away, its sound tiny, like a little kid’s.
Shit,
she thought.
I really forgot.
    “I don’t think you appreciate what this means to me,” her mother said. “To have this reporter come here and to have to talk about those things. Your grandpa doesn’t want to talk about them, so I count on you.”
    “I said I was sorry, Mom.”
    Ashleigh saw the tears forming in her mother’s eyes, little pools of water that threatened to spill. Her mother rarely cried. And whenever she cried, Ashleigh felt the same way. She’d do anything on earth to stop it from happening.
    But the tears didn’t spill. Instead, her mom seemed angry, ready to lash out.
    “I swear, Ashleigh, I’m the only one here who really cares about this family. The only one who cares about what happened in the past and who cares to do anything about it now. Do you know how frustrating that is for me?”
    The only one who cares about what happened in the past? The only one who cares to do anything about it now?
    Ashleigh felt her own anger rise. She slammed the glass on the counter, creating a mini geyser of water. It drenched her hand and the counter.
    “You’ve got a lot of nerve saying that to me,” Ashleigh said.
    “Don’t act that way.”
    “What are you going to do about it?”
    “You can’t talk to me that way.”
    “You’re the one stuck in Dove Point, living in the same house you grew up in,” Ashleigh said.
    Ashleigh regretted the words as she said them, but she couldn’t stop. And when they came out, her mother lifted her hand to her own mouth, reacting as though she’d been slapped.
    “Ashleigh,” she said. All she managed, her voice just above a whisper.
    “Mom, I’m sorry—”
    Then the tears really did come. Her mother turned away, went up the stairs and back to her room, leaving Ashleigh behind.
    And as soon as she was gone, Ashleigh knew what she wanted to say to her mom. What she should have said:
    If you really knew what I was doing today…And if only you knew I was doing it all for you. Only for you.

Chapter Eleven
    The call came just after nine in the evening. Janet was in her bed, the TV playing low. They were all in their rooms in the house, each of them isolated and locked in their own worlds. Janet let the phone ring. She figured it was a call for Ashleigh. No one ever called Janet or her dad.
    But the phone kept ringing. Either Ashleigh was wearing her headphones in her room and couldn’t hear it, or else she was letting it ring as a protest in response to the fight.
    Janet answered.
    “Hey,” the still familiar voice said. “It’s me.”
    “Michael?”
    Her heart started to thump. She felt almost breathless.
    “What are you doing?”
    “Watching TV.” She regretted the admission. So mundane. “I mean, there’s a movie.”
    “I was hoping we could talk more,” he said.
    “Sure.” Janet reached over and muted the sound. She sat up. “Do you want to come over? We could sit on the porch.”
    Michael laughed a little. “I’m guessing your dad is home, right?”
    “He is.”
    Janet understood. Her dad wasn’t a fan of Michael. He still thought of Michael as the shaggy-haired, partying wild manfrom high school. And Ashleigh’s father, Tony Bachus—now married and living in Florida—hung out with Michael all the time back then. Her dad associated the two boys so closely that neither one was allowed on the Manning property after Janet became pregnant.
    “I was thinking of neutral territory,” Michael said. “Do you know the coffee shop downtown? It’s open until eleven in the summer.” His voice carried mystery, like he knew things others didn’t know. Even something as trivial as the coffee shop hours. “Can you meet me there?”
    Janet didn’t hesitate. “I’ll be there in fifteen.”
    But when she stepped outside, into the hot, still night, something felt different. Too calm. Too quiet. Janet stopped in the driveway, halfway between the