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Root’s e-mail style was terse and to the point: "Vallaniuned the e-mail: "ROOT"

I typed a thank-you, and added a question: "No eternal life?"

She wrote back within an hour: "Not a chance"

My father hated e-mail and telephones He preferred letters and face-to-face conversations, modes of expression that allowed verbal sophistication and style

I respected the reasons for his feelings Nonetheless, sometimes I wished he would pick up the telephone or dash off an e-mail He was another void in -distance communication--but like all traits, this one varies considerably My es that turned up in s I don’t think this was possible because she had unusual telepathic powers, but because she was my mother, and the psychic relations between parents and children are known to be atypical

After lunch that day Mãe asked if I’d taketape The cooler weather

I saw no one that I knew, until I was outside the phar my bike from the rack, and a woman’s voice said my name I turned A sling past her shoulders, stood under a live oak tree, watching nized her from the TV nee’d seen at Flo’s

"Will you come here for a minute?" Her voice was soft, with a Southern accent more pronounced than Mysty’s "I’d like to talk with you"

I wheeled my bike over to her She wore a faded denim shirtdress and sandals

"I’m so sorry," I said, but she interrupted

"Tell irl, aren’t you?"

I nodded

"I heard the things people are saying about you," she said "Tell rass

"I didn’t see her the night she disappeared," I said

"Some say you killed her" Her hand flew out and clutched ernails The red polish was chipped

I tried to pullWhen I wrenched it away, her nails gouged my skin I stared at the slashes, at my dark red blood

"Tell me what you know" Her voice reain, I swerved away "I’ve told you," I said "I had nothing to do with it"

I cliaround toatching and waiting

For aher I’d been thinking hard, trying to hear Mysty’s thoughts--sending out e call "locators," thoughts that sometimes tell us where others are I’d sent the anything back She wasn’t anywhere withinI rode fast, out of town, past another group of searchers gathered around a sheriff ’s car, into the country again I was thinking unpleasant thoughts What if I did have so to do with it? What if whoever followed us at the mall that day was really after ashes on ht, soate

Chapter Eight

Allti to college at the age of fourteen would strike eneral wisdoher education is the late teens, after one has reached a degree of physical and mental maturity Educational experts (e" ifted"

Plato, whoher education should begin in one’s twenties, with advanced study of mathematics, then philosophy Only students capable of understanding reality and ments about it were suited for such study, he said, for later they would becouardians of the state

At fourteen, I didn’t knohat I wanted to becoun to wonder how I could contribute to society unless I actually lived in it

My ht with our laptop co incident, they felt a certain urgency aboutme out of Sassa and into another part of the world

"The ti at academic calendars online "If she applies by ust"

"She is sitting right here," I said, "and she appreciates your concern But why the big rush?"

They looked aton a cushion between theht out of storage

"Soot hold of a can of spray paint," I said "So what?"

But I knehat they were thinking: that the spray paint

"This isn’t the peaceful place it was," Mãe said "We hope that it will be again, when the rumors and speculation die down"

It would die down faster with me somewhere else I knew that But I was too stubborn to admit it "So the bullies win," I said "They make me run away"