Читать книгу The Tree Within - Stephen Campana - Страница 9

Peter Landers sorted through the mail, tossed most of it to the side, and held up one piece—a letter, postmarked Akron, Ohio. “We got something from Adam,” he called out to his wife. He didn’t call him Jack or any of the other surnames he had taken over the years as he wandered the country trying to throw his assassins off his trail. He called him by his birth name—Adam. That’s who he was and always would be, no matter what. His son—Adam. His wife came running in from the kitchen and snatched the envelope from Peter’s hand. They sat together on the sofa as she opened it up. She read it aloud:

Hi, folks. Doing okay. I’m still in Akron. Working at a packing plant. Boring work, but it pays for the room I’m renting. I think they’ve got my scent again, though; I guess I’ll be leaving soon. I will keep you posted. Love you both.

She put the card down on the coffee table and stared at Peter. She said nothing. She didn’t have to. He knew what she was thinking. They had been through it all a thousand times. They would love to have him there with them, but that wasn’t working out. As long as he was there, they would have to keep moving, as they did for the first eighteen years of his life. And it was just a lot easier for one person to run than for a whole family. So, Adam, against their wishes, ran. And he’d been running ever since. But wherever he ran, no matter how fast or how far, he was still their son. And nothing could change that.