chapter 47

The trailer park was about two miles from the barn. The route was familiar, something I’d done a hundred times or more. A life spent avoiding others had taught me all the less traveled paths and given me an edge at staying invisible.

I kept my head down and walked past homes and stores. I knew enough to act like I belonged without making eye contact. My fifth-grade teacher walked past me on the street. My pulse raced, worried she’d stop me and say hello. She didn’t even acknowledge me.

Soon, I was out of the shopping area and cutting through neighborhoods and parks. In the distance, I could make out the trailer park that had been my home my whole life.

Some of the residents were outside this morning. Ethan McIntyre, a regular of my mom’s, was sitting in a blue plastic kiddie pool with a can of beer in hand. I wrinkled my nose. How my mom was willing to even let him in her bedroom, let alone between her legs was a mystery to me.

A dog barked and ran toward me, only to be pulled back by