Free Chasing Hope by Kathryn Cushman Page A

crept closer to the house, staying hidden in the shadows. She wasn’t totally sure why she was there. Just something about this girl seemed off.
    When the coast seemed clear, she crept up to the house, careful to open the gate slowly. Squeaking hinges and stealth never went well together. Any normal person would have just picked up the phone, or rung the bell, or would have asked the question during training that morning. Normal probably wouldn’t get answers though, so Brandy opted for a different plan.
    She came around into the dark backyard and looked through the windows. Brandy didn’t know what kind of activity she was watching for, just something that would tell her what was the dealwith Sabrina. A sign of some sort. A flash of movement near the back door drew her attention.
    Sabrina appeared in the kitchen. She’d changed into pajamas and pulled her hair back in a messy bun. Brandy watched as she filled a glass of water from the faucet and finished the whole thing in three straight gulps. She rubbed the back of her neck, then refilled the glass and reached down into a drawer and started fishing around for something.
    For a second, Brandy thought about leaving. This was just a college girl getting ready for bed, but then she saw what Sabrina had pulled from the drawer. A pill bottle. She pried it open, shook two into her palm, popped them into her mouth, and followed them with a gulp of water. She repeated this process twice more.
    Pills? Could be anything. Brandy moved even closer, as if somehow she might discover the truth about Sabrina in the identity of those pills.
    She was only a yard away from the house. Dark though it was outside, a direct look out of the window carried the chance that she would be seen. She made sure to stay out of the light that spilled from the inside.
    Once again, Sabrina reached down for something on the counter. Brandy couldn’t help herself and moved closer.
    This time, Sabrina came up holding a half-full syringe. She held it up to the overhead light, flicked it with her fingers a few times to dislodge air bubbles, then bent over, presumably to inject it into her leg.
    So it was drugs! So much for the goody-two-shoes her grandmother thought this girl was. So much for what Coach Thompson thought about her. It was midnight and the girl was shooting up. Brandy stood for a moment, letting every bit of the hate she felt in that moment transfer from her being toward that window. She wondered if the glass wouldn’t crack from the force of it.
    Just then Sabrina stood back up and looked at the window. Brandy took a step back, but it was too late. Sabrina jumped toward the door, and Brandy ran for all she was worth.

    Sabrina pushed out the door, ran through the backyard, and out through the still-open gate. By the time she reached the end of the driveway she had no idea which direction Brandy might have run. Without pausing to think about it, she decided she’d take the fifty-fifty odds, turned right, and continued running. By the time she got to the end of the block, she’d seen no sign of Brandy, and by then it didn’t matter. She couldn’t have continued under any circumstances.
    She turned and started walking back toward the house. With each step, barbs of pain shot through her right knee. Why had she run after that girl again? Any sane person would have learned a lesson the first time. She reached down and rubbed her knee. It was still extra puffy and this little escapade was sure to increase that. She limped back toward the house, vowing not to do this again.
    Wednesday morning, if Brandy bothered to show up, Sabrina was going to lay down some ground rules. The first one would be something like “Absolutely no stalking.” What did that girl want, anyway? It was creepy, that’s what it was.
    “You’re limping.” The voice came from behind her.
    Sabrina whirled around and saw Brandy sitting on Nana’s retaining wall in the shadows. She had her legs crossed and was leaning back