CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THURSDAY, MAY 10, 2001 3:05pm
Twenty-six Years Ago
The sound was so loud. Slaps, dishes breaking, screaming, crying. Mike couldn’t drown it out. He couldn’t make it stop. Hands pressed against his ears so hard it hurt still didn’t hide it.
Another roar of bad words and another slap, then the clatter of a chair falling, her chair.
He dropped his hands and rose from his hiding place below the stairs. Tears poured down his cheeks like he was a baby, but he ignored them and ran, screaming toward the kitchen.
“Stop it,” he yelled as he entered the shiny room, a room that should be safe and warm.
His mother sprawled on the floor, the chair overturned behind her. Broken dishes and glasses surrounded her. His father towered over her, breathing heavily, his hands in fists.
