Shades of Red Read Free Page A

guy’s got to pass muster with me, too. If I think he’s a jerk, it’s out the door on his butt, okay?” He got to his feet.
    Darrell managed a little smile. “Okay.”
    â€œYou need help to get that thing on?”
    She shook her head. “No. I can manage. Thanks for the book, Uncle Frank. I’ll be down in a minute.”
    As the door closed behind her uncle, the prosthesis shifted in her hand and knocked his book to the floor. Darrell slowly slipped on her new leg and tugged herjeans back into place before reaching down to pick up the paperback.
    A hooded figure dominated the vermilion cover, one hand raised as if in plea or supplication. “W. Goldman,” she read aloud. “
Escape from Spain
.” Ignoring the burning ache that settled into her leg as she stood up, Darrell clutched the book like a life raft and headed for the stairs.
    Darrell lay disconsolately on the couch, fiddling with a piece of tinsel that had wrapped itself around her ankle earlier in the day. She was heading back to school this afternoon. Eagle Glen Alternative School. The best school she’d ever known — and the strangest. But all the things that made it special brought back terrible memories of her last days and the loss of Conrad. And life at home was no better.
    Dinner last night had been a disaster. But when she’d dragged herself downstairs this morning, her mother had acted like nothing had happened. Darrell had ended up helping take down the tree, and the effort had sapped all her remaining energy. She collapsed on the couch, overcome by the lethargy that had dogged her the entire holiday season. Delaney dozed in a tight ball on the rug near the couch, snoring gently and making her feel sleepier than ever. Her new book sat on the table beside the couch, unread. It seemed too much like work to open the cover.
    â€œDarrell!” Dr. Connor’s disembodied voice floated down the stairs. “Time to get changed, okay? We’ve got to start for school in less than an hour.”
    School.
    Darrell wrapped the tinsel around her finger and reached for the television remote. “I’ve set out my clothes, Mom!” she called. “I’ll be up in a few minutes — just want to finish my show.”
    She flipped on the television. A news station showed footage of casualties in the latest skirmish in the Middle East. Darrell stared at the screen but couldn’t determine where the mangled bodies were from. Were they rebels? Terrorists? Civilians? And how could anyone tell the difference? The flat snap of gunfire from somewhere behind the reporter onscreen startled Delaney awake, and he looked around blearily before settling down to sleep again.
    Darrell gave up trying to figure out who was killing whom and changed channels. She stared at the flickering images through half-closed eyes. Scenes of war shifted into an arsenal of advertising. Ads for cars. Ads for diapers. Ads for beer. Darrell flicked through all the channels. Plenty of ads and not much else to see on Sunday morning television when a person’s mother won’t pay for cable.
    The remote slid out of her hands as Darrell stared dully at the screen. The picture settled on a group ofwomen in matching choral robes swaying stiffly from side to side.
    â€œProbably an ad for some church,” she muttered. Still, it saved her from thinking about her mother or school.
    The music ended, and a man with a high blonde pompadour stepped onto the screen. He embraced each of the robed women in turn.
    Darrell strained to reach the remote, but it lay on the floor just beyond her fingertips. The effort of stretching out her arm was too much, and she slumped deeper into the couch. The blonde man twirled to face the camera, his widely spaced eyes exuding sincerity. His voice flowed like hot caramel. “Do you believe?”
    Darrell closed her eyes. This was almost enough to send her upstairs to get changed. Almost. But