Relic Read Free Page A

tighter into my mom’s side as the woman first sneered at us and then pointed a stern finger at my mom. “They’re displaying stolen artifacts.” She gestured to the monks. “These monks came all the way from Cambodia to get them back.”
    A couple of news crews rushed in and pointed their cameras and bright lights at us. My mom cleared her throat. “If there’s something in the museum that was stolen, you should report it. There are better ways than trying to intimidate people.”
    â€œReport it?” The protestor laughed. “Who should we report it to? Cambodian authorities don’t care, and the curator doesn’t care. All they care about is making money and drawing a crowd.” She scowled at the camera crew and then back at my mom. “Which is exactly what you’re helping them do. You make me sick.” She turned to the camera. “Imagine a woman bringing her kids to see a stolen head.”
    â€œStolen head?” Colin’s eyes widened to the size of Roman shields, and a smile tore his face in half. “As in an actual human head?” He laughed. “I thought we were here to see a giant turd. This is way better than I expected.”
    The protestor blinked. “A giant what?”
    Colin looked up at the camera. “Can I say turd on TV?” The cameraman smiled and gave Colin a thumbs-up.
    Museum security stepped up and blocked the crazy lady from getting closer to the entrance. She grumbled, raised a fist over her head, and then returned to her group and resumed chanting, “Give it back. Give it back.”
    We stepped inside. A man in a dark suit stood just inside the door. “Good morning, ma’am,” he said to my mom. “My name is Jonathan Overton. I’m the curator of the museum. I just wanted to extend my apologies for any discomfort caused by the protestors.” He pursed his lips and blew a breath through his nose. I imagined he’d been giving the same apology to everyone who’d come in. Then he seemed to give my mom a second look. “Professor Curse?”
    She extended her hand. “I’m sorry, Mr. Overton, do we know each other?”
    â€œNo, no, but my predecessor mentioned you had a lot of input on our art exhibit, and I was at your lecture on Caravaggio this past spring. Riveting.”
    My mom’s grin widened. “Why, thank you. I was trying to introduce the…”
    I stopped paying attention to the conversation and glanced at my friends. The three of us slipped away—or in my case, crutched away. Becky did too, but she went the opposite direction.
    â€œLet’s go find that head,” Colin said.
    A map situated in the middle of the foyer showed that each floor of the museum was shaped like a giant U.
    â€œSecond floor is artwork,” Lisa said, muttering mostly to herself as she read the map. “Here.” She tapped a section marked in red. “New exhibits and items on loan. I bet the head’s here. First floor.”
    She pointed to the right. “That way.”

Chapter 4
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    The three of us made our way through the Native American exhibit and past the display of medieval weaponry. Colin stole one of my crutches and had a mock sword fight with a knight on display. He only stopped when he noticed the models of early man and jumped the ropes. He hunched over, situating himself among a trio of cavemen roasting something over a fake fire.
    â€œAw, that’s sweet,” Lisa said. “Colin’s found his birth family.”
    â€œDon’t listen to her, Dad,” Colin said, speaking to the wax caveman to his right. “She's just jealous.”
    We laughed and Colin stood up and took a step but his foot clipped one of the logs in the display and he stumbled backwards through some fake foliage and smack into the back wall, then disappeared.
    â€œColin?”
    â€œA little help,” he said, groaning.
    Lisa and I exchanged