Chapter 5: The BoyIN THE SMALL OTTAWA APARTMENT where he lived with his mother, thirteen-year-old Zach Morgan tossed and turned in bed long after he heard his mom’s door close and her mattress squeak. He felt for the clock on his night table and pressed the big button on top. The clock announced the time in a flat computer voice: “Twelve…twenty…three…ay…em.”
Quincy, his black Labrador seeing-eye dog, whined and his tags jingled as he raised his head from where he lay beside the bed. “It’s okay, Quince,” Zach whispered. “Go to sleep.” Quincy gave a soft “whuff” and lay back down.
Zach felt for his iPod in front of the clock. Putting his earbuds in, he thumbed it on, hoping music would help him drift off. He was going to be tired tomorrow, and he had a history quiz second period.
But he w
