I checked the bottom drawer of her dresser. There was $26,000 in neatly wrapped stacks of bills hidden under her clothes. I could do some serious running and hiding with that money. But I was 16 years-old. I only had the ID I was using at the moment. I knew how to vanish, but I wasn't as mobile as Mother thought. A bike just doesn't get you far, and the only alternative was the bus.Under the money were several additional IDs, but could I be sure the people she knew didn't know about those? That wasn't something I would bet my life on, and that was what was at stake. She'd told me, years before, that there might come a day when I had to run for my life, and if I did, to far and fast.Most people, when they flee, don't have a plan. When they run, they revert to habits they'd had for years. Mother had taught me that when you did something, you had to think it through first. I wasn't the emotional teenager a lot of people might think, I had had some adult habits drilled into me, partly. By the last stop, I had my hand nestled in the small of her back, shielding her from the touches of other passengers. There was that twinge deep inside at having her so close. Chris seemed to ignore the touch of my hand, so I kept it there, feeling her warmth under the thin fabric of her dress. Was I protecting her by laying claim? I smiled at the thought and she, seeing me smile, nudged me with her elbow. ‘What are you grinning about?’ she asked. ‘Our stop is next,’ I said, neatly avoiding the question as I pressed her further ahead toward the exit doors. The fair grounds were crowded. It was a beautiful day for the fair and even more crowded because it was a weekend. It would be a record-breaking day. I did not like the heat, though, and could easily have done without the long lines, but that all comes with a day at the fair. Even before we got to the gates, our senses were assaulted with the smells and sounds of the fair, both good and bad. My stomach growled loud enough to be.
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