Night’s Edge by Liz Kerin EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Liz Kerin
- Language: English
- Genre: Coming of Age Fiction
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
2010
SALT LAKE CITY
I’m hungry and it’s two in the morning. The fridge is empty. And Mom is
dead on the couch.
I know she’s not sleeping. Her eyes are open. She’s in her bra. Jeans
unbuttoned. Her exposed skin is covered in bite marks, yellowing like
whey. The couch is stained purple. It used to be blue. Fifth grade started last
week. I have a spelling test tomorrow morning.
“I’m sorry. I-I didn’t … We were just—” Devon stammers from the
shadows. I’m too afraid to look at him. I’m just staring at the purple couch
that used to be blue.
“We were just messing around and then … you know.”
I don’t. I’m ten.
I grab Mom’s cell phone from the coffee table, trying to dial 911. Devon
rips it out of my hand, and bends my wrist backward. But I don’t feel the
pain—not at first. He chases me in circles around the kitchen. My throat
goes ragged as I scream in his face. I try to yank a kitchen knife from the
butcher block but I can’t hold on to it. My wrist is on fire.
“It was a mistake, Mia! I made a fucking mistake, okay?” I really don’t
care. Leave, I hate you. Leave, I hate you. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.
No one’s heard of Saratov’s syndrome yet. People are still dancing in the
dark and feel safe enough walking home at night with a friend. Devon’s
probably one of the first carriers.
He stops chasing me. We’re both gasping for breath, standing on
opposite sides of the couch. I wonder if I’ll have to live with Devon now. I
hardly know him. Mom hardly knows him. Knew him.
We met him at the Fourth of July festival. He was there by himself and
Mom thought he looked lonely. I thought he looked weird. Stringy, unkempt
hair the color of dead grass. A tattered tank top that exposed his gangly
arms and crude stick-and-pokes.
Mom waved him down and offered him a beer. Later, when we threw
away our trash, I realized the can was still full. He’d been pretending to
drink it. I thought that was strange and I told Mom, but she had nothing to
say about it.
Some nights she doesn’t come home. I don’t know what they do
together. She doesn’t go to the store, doesn’t buy food. I’ve never seen
Devon eat, and she doesn’t get hungry when he’s around. Last night I had
ketchup and crackers for dinner.
I didn’t even know they were here. If she screamed or struggled, I didn’t
hear anything.
Devon picks up the knife I dropped on the floor. “I can fix this,” he
whispers.
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