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Chapter 13

Shifting, he stared up at what he could see of the sky through the bushes.

What do I do, once I get to Denver? Hope I see something I remember? Hope I can find somewhere to stay? I didn’t plan this too well, but damn it, I couldn’t just sit around up there wondering. Wondering who Iam. Wondering who killed Michael. He chuckled softly. Wondering if I’m being stupid doing this. I’m hardly an adult. What do I know about—anything when it comes down to it?

That thought depressed him. He had the feeling he’d just jumped into a hornet’s nest feet first and didn’t know how or what to do next.

But I am here, and I’m not turning back. Somehow I will find out who I am, and who my family was. I don’t know how, but I will.

3

“How old are you, kid?” the man behind the counter asked.

Derek lied, maybe. He wasn’t sure. “Sixteen-and-a-half.”

“Ever worked before?”

“No, sir, but I think I could flip burgers without messing up.”