Trail of Secrets Read Free Page A

spreading ache in my legs and the fire in my lungs. The first wave of pain passed, and I settled into a comfortable rhythm, passing by stands of pine and spruce trees and smelling the end of summer heat mixed with thick vegetation and the carpet of pine needles and decaying leaves underfoot. After about eight kilometres, the path took an upward climb. I ran another kilometre until my sides ached and I was out of breath, then bent over to grab my knees and catch my breath. I’d stopped in a copse of tall evergreens and could just see patches of blue when I looked up through the branches. The next day would be the first of September, and summer was nearly over. Standing there alone in the middle of the woods, far away from the noise of Springhills, I made a silent vow to try harder in school if Mom let Leslie stay with us instead of forcing her to move away. I’d stop complaining about how wrong everything was and start looking for the good in my life. I’d clean my room and take out the garbage . . . I gave my head a shake and turned to start jogging slowly back towards home. You shouldn’t get toocarried away when making vows. In the big scheme of things, promising to work harder at school should be way more than enough to keep Leslie home.
    I found Dad in the backyard, sitting on the steps holding his baseball cap in both hands between his knees. His eyes were fixed on something at the back of the property where the fence tilted on an angle, looking like a good wind would knock it over. I knew he had already calculated how much cedar he needed to rebuild it. He always had lots of construction plans, but being in business for himself, he never had any free time to get things done. Even though Dad was staring in that direction, I knew he wasn’t thinking about the fence. He looked up when I clicked the gate shut and gave me a slow smile.
    â€œGo for a run?”
    â€œYeah. Now I’m ready for a shower.” I climbed up next to him on the steps and sat down. “Did Mom agree to let Leslie stay?”
    Dad began twirling his baseball cap around and around in his hands. When he spoke, his voice was even. “We’re to put Leslie on the plane tomorrow morning. Your mom already made the reservation, and the ticket is waiting at the airport. Do you think you could start getting her things packed? I didn’t get through to . . .” His voice trailed off, and he stood suddenly, jumping off the bottom step. “I should get back to work. I’m late, and I have a brake line to fix by three.”
    â€œOkay.” Dad didn’t have to spell out the impact this was going to have on our lives. He sure didn’t need me to tell him how bad I felt. Instead, I said, “I’ll make a nicesupper. Maybe spaghetti. That’s Leslie’s favourite.”
    â€œI’ll bring home some ice cream for dessert.” Dad put on his ball cap and bowed his head as he walked away from me. He had his hand on the gate when he turned and looked back. “How am I going to tell her?” he asked, his eyes resting on mine for a moment before he turned and pushed the gate open.
    I tried to think of something halfway comforting to say, but by the time I’d come up with an idea, the gate was swinging shut, and Dad was gone.

    I spent the rest of the day getting Leslie’s clothes washed and packed without her knowing. Luckily, she’d gone to the water park with her friend Molly, so her last day home wasn’t ruined. When I finished, I tucked the suitcases inside my bedroom so she wouldn’t see them until Dad told her she’d be leaving the next morning.
    I clumped downstairs and started preparing my famous spaghetti sauce, which was a concoction of ingredients and spices I’d come up with after doing some research on the web. Dad said more than once that I should bottle the recipe and sell it so he could retire. Dad liked to talk about winning