You Can't Hide Theresa Sneed (top 10 non fiction books of all time .TXT) 📖

“Yep,” Wendy said, who trailed behind Sofia. “We all do.”

“Moments of idiocy come and go,” Sofia said, “but a true idiot . . . quits.”

And this coming from a self-proclaimed recluse, of sorts. But, it was as if she’d read Nancy’s mind—and now challenged it. Nancy’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you here?”

Sofia chuckled. “Ah, touché.”

Wendy took her by the arm in a protective manner. “Come along, Sofi.”

“No,” Sofia said, “it is only fair.” She waved Millie and Wendy away. She weaved her arm through Nancy’s and took off at a slow stroll toward the cabins. After the women were out of earshot, she pulled her arm down and turned to Nancy. “My situation cannot compare to yours and would seem almost foolish.”

Still reeling from her embarrassing outburst, Nancy didn’t say anything. What could she say? Um, let me be the judge of that, was too cruel—justified, but nonetheless, cruel. “Go on,” she said, her arms folded tight across her chest.

“I am an heiress,” Sofia said in a cautious voice.

Seriously? An heiress was a problem? So, she came from money.

“I am a wife and a mother.”

Money. Husband. Child. Still, no problem. “And?”

“None of which I can enjoy.”

That piqued Nancy’s interest.

Sofia continued. “I may not have been locked in a cave by a human beast, but I am kept away from my child and a normal relationship with my husband by an inner beast.”

Oh.

“Idiocy . . . comes and goes,” she said, her voice trailing to nothing. “There are moments my mind is sharp and focused.” She pressed her lips together. “And there are times I wake up and have no idea where I’ve been, or what I’ve done.” She moaned. “Fortunately, that happens infrequently.”

“That’s why you here?”

“Oh, no,” she laughed. “I have another place I go for that.” Her eyes brightened. “I come here to write.”

“Yes, I can see why,” Nancy said, glancing at the darkening sky settling over the gentle ripples in the lake, like a warm blanket over a weary child. “It’s a perfect place to write.” They had arrived at the blue cabin. “Um, I can . . .”

Sofia sighed. “You can stay. It would honor her memory.” She pointed to the cabin. “Ashleigh was the closest thing to a sister that I ever had. We grew up together in Europe.” A sudden sadness covered her face, as is she saw her friend standing at the door.

“Would you like to come in?”

Sofia snapped her head back. “No.”

Nancy pressed her lips together. “Of course not. Sorry.”

Sofia got a faraway look. “No, of course not,” she repeated, as she turned to walk away. “But maybe, another time.”

Nancy heard the stress on the word maybe and doubted she’d see Sofia at the doorstep of the blue cabin again. Maybe was a good, noncommittal word, and one she would have to remember.

Twenty-Three

The Man in the Black Suit

Hidden beside a large dumpster, Sally’s heart thudded in her chest. “Who is he, Breccan?” The space between the dumpster and the brick wall was narrow, but offered them a view of the white van turning a corner down the street. She pressed her head tight against the cold, brick wall.

Helping her up, he tugged on her arm. “I don’t know, but I’m sure my dad can find out. Come on, I don’t live far from here.” She ran beside him down the street and onto a main road. He hit the crosswalk button several times, constantly glancing about him in all directions.

She wasn’t sure what made her more scared—her fear of the white van, or Breccan’s heightened anxiety. Finally, the light changed, and they rushed across the street, straight up some steps, and then into a door of a brick building.

She leaned against the window sill, panting. “Your dad has an office in here?”

He pulled her away from the window. “No.”

“Huh?”

“It was the closest place to go.”

A burly man dressed in a black suit approached them. “What are you kids doing here?”

Breccan pointed to the small window. His voice quivered. “Sanctuary?”

The man’s eyes widened, as he looked from Breccan, to Sally, and then out the window. “Huh.” He grunted. He tapped the window. “That man bothering you?”

Sally’s eyes widened. The man was outside? She nodded vigorously. “Yes.”

The man’s countenance darkened. “Who is he?” He leaned into the window.

She snapped. “How am I supposed to know who he is?” Probably not the best way to say something to someone who was meant to be their protector.

The man grimaced. He glanced back out the window. “He seems like a normal enough bloke.”

Some protector. “Gah. Don’t they all?”

He stared at her, traces of doubt beginning to surface on his face.

“Well,” she stammered, feeling conflicted. “He asked me for directions.”

“What?”

She bit down on her lip. That did sound ridiculous, even to her.

“He drove by us just a moment ago,” added Breccan.

“That’s it?” The man coughed. “All of that could be easily enough explained.”

“I guess so.” Sally’s shoulders slumped forward. “Maybe, I did overreact a—”

A loud rap on the door startled them. The man put his finger to his lips and ushered them behind an open door into the next room.

Sally couldn’t make out the words, but the scuffle that ensued startled her. Breccan pulled her behind him, blocking her from whoever it was that argued with the man in the black suit.

“I saw my daughter come in in here. And you will show me where she is.”

“Daughter?” The man’s loud voice boomed. He sounded surprised.

“Daddy?” Sally said, looking past Breccan. The man in the black suit held Sam tight against the door frame. He released his firm grip.

“Daddy!” Rushing to Sam, she fell into his arms.

“What’s going on here?” Sam barked, taking a firm stance between the towering man in the black suit, and Sally.

The man waved him down. “Sorry, mister, but this young lady and her friend dashed into my office and said they were being followed.”

“It was the closest building,” Breccan said, looking at the floor.

“What? Who is this, Sally?” He gestured toward Breccan with