Chapter 11

He heaved himself off the couch and headed to his cubbyhole bedroom, stopping to hunt for the pain pills he’d gotten last year when he’d had a root canal. His tolerance for pain was pretty high and the lousy drug made him groggy, so he’d taken only a couple of them back then. Tonight, maybe two Vicodin would let him sleep. The pain was more emotional than physical, but it was still pain, gut-wrenching agony. He set his alarm for five-thirty, determined to be out of the camp before Roane got up and not to return until late Sunday night.

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