Chapter 7
I didn’t stop running until my right foot pushed through my flip-flop, yanking the rubber thong out of its spongy base. My toes slid into gravel and pain streaked through me like I’d landed on sandpaper. I knew without looking that my foot was cut and bleeding.
“Damn it!” I yelled, then quickly checked if there was anyone around to scold me for swearing. I was right outside a white cottage with black shutters and shingles. It was bigger than my parents’ house in the city. The Hamiltons lived there year-round, not just in the summer. Mrs. Hamilton kept a blooming vegetable garden out front, but she wasn’t there at the moment.
Picking up my broken flip-flop, I hopped to the ditch and dunked my foot in the water. My toes weren’t actually bleeding, just a little red, but I
