Excerpt:
How can you be as smart as you are and have no backbone, girl? or You’re not pretty enough to be able to expect a man to take care of you, so you better find an administrative job so you can support yourself, or Self-consciousness is just another form of vanity. It’s just you thinking about yourself too much.
That simply scratched the surface of what Sarah heard on a daily basis growing up. On the positive side, she could take criticism with the best of them. She had also learned to channel her sensitivity into an awareness of people’s motivations that coworkers called “uncanny.” On the negative side, when her parents died, she had absorbed their voices into those that already spoke inside her head, and now they were the loudest ones.
It was her heightened awareness that told her that something was not quite right with the Davies case. She wasn’t sure what, and she would need to be careful about how she researched, but it tickled her curiosity.
Sarah was lost in these thoughts as she left the grocery store and made her way home, past the park and toward the basketball courts. When she realized where she was, her heart started to race a little bit at the thought of seeing the boy she had seen last week.
There were some boys playing on the court. She scanned them for someone in grungy clothes, but from a distance, they all looked like they were wearing appropriate attire.Sarah’s heart sank a little.
Don’t be ridiculous, she told herself. Although she wasn’t exactly sure what she was chiding herself about, it was nice when the voice doing the talking was her own.
As she got closer, she saw the tall, red-haired boy miss a shot and retake the ball. He was one of the regulars. When the red-haired boy landed, he jostled one of the other boys near him. That boy staggered, regained his footing, and in the process deftly stole the ball. When she saw his face, Sarah actually heard herself gasp. The boy who had been pushed, the one who now had the basketball, was the boy she had seen before. She hadn’t noticed him because his appearance was quite different. His shoulder-length dark hair had been cut. He had on a red-and-black striped shirt that didn’t look expensive, but did look brand new, as did the matching shorts. His sneakers were black with pristine white soles. And right at the moment, he was dribbling the ball down the court—straight at her.
Sarah froze. She was standing on the sidewalk behind the basket on the other side of the chain-link fence. She felt like her feet had grown roots as she watched him set up, jump, and make the basket. He came down right in front of her. As he landed, before turning to run back down the court, he stopped and caught her eye. His eyes widened ever so slightly, and he smiled.
For a moment, he looked directly in her eyes and she felt a strange dizzy feeling in seeing him and being seen by him. No one in her life ever seemed to actually see her. No one ever had.
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