Running Scared
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Brenda Chapman. Running Scared
Running. Scared
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Eleven
Epilogue
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Brenda Chapman
Officer Long told me to take my time and just tell everything I remembered. She put me in what I think is called an interrogation room. It was quite small, without a window, but the fluorescent light gave it that shopping mall glow. They sat me on a straight-backed chair, behind a sizable wooden table that was covered with what looked like knife gouges and dark-blue ink splotches. I wasn’t uncomfortable, but I can tell you, this was no Holiday Inn. Officer Long brought me a can of diet pop and a doughnut that was all wizened-up with a film of chocolate icing that had hardened and cracked. Since it was past supper time, I gulped down both and soon felt an uncomfortable heaviness around my navel area.
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“Okay, dear. I’ll ask her to bring it to you.” She left the door open, and I could hear her yelling up the stairs as I waited outside on the front porch. It was almost five minutes before Mrs. Guido returned with the book. “Sorry, dear, but Ambie’s asleep. I guess she’s got some sort of flu.”
I almost snatched the book out of her hands but stopped myself in time. I sure hoped Leslie’s TV show was keeping her on the couch and out of trouble. “Thanks, Mrs. Guido. Tell Ambie to get well soon.” I tucked the book under my arm and decided to double my pace back home.
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