Heartdrum Brochure

Page 28

Kim Rogers

room, trying to draw me out like a giant invisible “come here” finger, but it wasn’t working. I’d already lost my appetite—ever since Mom told me the news. Grandpa Lou closed the door. I threw off my covers. My feet felt like boulders dangling from the side of the bed. I wrapped a blanket around my shivering shoulders, then stumbled toward the window. Stars still sprinkled the velvety Oklahoma sky. Maybe, just maybe, the sun wouldn’t come up and Mom wouldn’t have to go. And maybe today wasn’t January 5, the day that I’d been dreading for weeks. I got dressed and combed my messy hair. In the foyer, Mom’s overstuffed green duffel bags stood at attention, ready to march out the door. I staggered around like a seventh-grade zombie girl, hoping I was dreaming. Everyone else flittered frantically around the house. Grandpa Lou loaded the last of the breakfast dishes into the dishwasher at a rapid-fire pace. Our little dog Fritz zipped behind Mom from room to room, because even he knew. His metallic tag jingle-jangled with his every step. It sounded like a sleigh at Christmastime, but this was no holiday celebration. Mom, aka Captain Vanessa Stephenson, was going on another deployment to the Middle East. She was

AncestorApproved_txt_des2_cc17.indd 21

7/8/20 12:03 PM