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Authors: Lynette Eason
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knew.”
Amy crunched on a homemade potato chip and studied the crowd, her nerves unsettled. She felt watched, as if eyes followed her every move, but she couldn’t figure out why.
Several laughing, giggling children played on a makeshift waterslide. One of the relief workers squirted soap on the plastic to make it a faster ride. A young teenage girl got a running start and went headfirst down the sloping hill where spectators normally gathered to watch the baseball games. Today, it was the perfect place for a water slide. Her high-pitched scream brought a laugh to the other workers supervising the activity.
There was a dunking booth, a face-painting area, a pie-eating contest and other games adapted from the United States. The outer part of the ball field had been set up for a dodgeball game.
Amy had come to love the game, but today her heart wasn’t into playing. Keeping her senses attuned to the people around her, in case one of them was a killer ready to strike again, and trying to work up the courage to tell Micah his identity took all her energy. She was sure once he remembered her, he wouldn’t want anything to do with her. He’d only known her as a spoiled socialite, interested in shopping and partying. But not telling him was selfish, and she couldn’t put it off any longer.
She’d definitely tell him tonight.
“Hey, you want to play?” he said, interrupting her thoughts.
The half smile on his face drew an answering smile from her. “Nah. Why? Do you want to?”
“Looks kinda fun.”
Jonathas laughed. “It’s a great game. Come on.”
Giving in to the pressure, Amy grabbed Micah’s outstretched hand, allowing him to pull her to her feet. She could get used to the feel of his hand in hers. Easily. He held it as they jogged over to the field where the game was just getting started. Amy and Micah ended up on opposite teams. Jonathas stood beside her. Their teammate on the other end of the field lobbed the ball over the opposing team. The ball headed straight for Amy. She dodged it.
The child on the other side caught it, then reared back and let loose with a ball that beaned a young boy about nine years old in the shoulder. He gave a good-natured shrug on his way off the field.
The other team picked up the ball and tossed it back toward Amy’s team. Everyone scattered, letting the ball roll away. This time, Amy picked it up and, without hesitating, zinged it straight for Micah. It caught him smack in the stomach. The look of surprise sent her into gales of laughter. Then she felt the ball punch her lightly in the thigh. She was out. It wasn’t exactly American dodgeball, but it was fun.
This time Micah was laughing. “That’ll teach you to laugh at me.”
A snicker escaped from her. “It was worth it. You should have seen the look on your face.”
“Where’d you learn to throw like that?”
Immediately sadness replaced giddiness. Two and a half years ago, he would have never had to ask that question. He would have known. Smiling up at him, she hid the momentary twinge. “I was the pitcher on my high-school softball team. I had to sneak out to play.” She took a deep breath, decided to take a chance and said in a snooty voice, “My mother, Cecelia Graham, wife of Senator Graham, did not deem softball a sport worthy of her only daughter.” In her normal voice, she said, “Now, if I’d chosen ice-skating or an equestrian sport, that would have been all well and good.”
Micah took her hand again. “Your mother sounds like quite the character. Come on, let’s go get some dessert.”
Unfortunately, Micah had shown no recognition of her mother’s name. Quite the character. Yes, that was one way of putting it. Amy shoved the bitterness aside and felt a chill raise the hair on her neck. Subtly looking around, she noticed nothing out of place. Just fun and games. Why was she feeling so skittish? Doing her best to ignore the creepy sensations, yet staying alert for any suspicious
Amy crunched on a homemade potato chip and studied the crowd, her nerves unsettled. She felt watched, as if eyes followed her every move, but she couldn’t figure out why.
Several laughing, giggling children played on a makeshift waterslide. One of the relief workers squirted soap on the plastic to make it a faster ride. A young teenage girl got a running start and went headfirst down the sloping hill where spectators normally gathered to watch the baseball games. Today, it was the perfect place for a water slide. Her high-pitched scream brought a laugh to the other workers supervising the activity.
There was a dunking booth, a face-painting area, a pie-eating contest and other games adapted from the United States. The outer part of the ball field had been set up for a dodgeball game.
Amy had come to love the game, but today her heart wasn’t into playing. Keeping her senses attuned to the people around her, in case one of them was a killer ready to strike again, and trying to work up the courage to tell Micah his identity took all her energy. She was sure once he remembered her, he wouldn’t want anything to do with her. He’d only known her as a spoiled socialite, interested in shopping and partying. But not telling him was selfish, and she couldn’t put it off any longer.
She’d definitely tell him tonight.
“Hey, you want to play?” he said, interrupting her thoughts.
The half smile on his face drew an answering smile from her. “Nah. Why? Do you want to?”
“Looks kinda fun.”
Jonathas laughed. “It’s a great game. Come on.”
Giving in to the pressure, Amy grabbed Micah’s outstretched hand, allowing him to pull her to her feet. She could get used to the feel of his hand in hers. Easily. He held it as they jogged over to the field where the game was just getting started. Amy and Micah ended up on opposite teams. Jonathas stood beside her. Their teammate on the other end of the field lobbed the ball over the opposing team. The ball headed straight for Amy. She dodged it.
The child on the other side caught it, then reared back and let loose with a ball that beaned a young boy about nine years old in the shoulder. He gave a good-natured shrug on his way off the field.
The other team picked up the ball and tossed it back toward Amy’s team. Everyone scattered, letting the ball roll away. This time, Amy picked it up and, without hesitating, zinged it straight for Micah. It caught him smack in the stomach. The look of surprise sent her into gales of laughter. Then she felt the ball punch her lightly in the thigh. She was out. It wasn’t exactly American dodgeball, but it was fun.
This time Micah was laughing. “That’ll teach you to laugh at me.”
A snicker escaped from her. “It was worth it. You should have seen the look on your face.”
“Where’d you learn to throw like that?”
Immediately sadness replaced giddiness. Two and a half years ago, he would have never had to ask that question. He would have known. Smiling up at him, she hid the momentary twinge. “I was the pitcher on my high-school softball team. I had to sneak out to play.” She took a deep breath, decided to take a chance and said in a snooty voice, “My mother, Cecelia Graham, wife of Senator Graham, did not deem softball a sport worthy of her only daughter.” In her normal voice, she said, “Now, if I’d chosen ice-skating or an equestrian sport, that would have been all well and good.”
Micah took her hand again. “Your mother sounds like quite the character. Come on, let’s go get some dessert.”
Unfortunately, Micah had shown no recognition of her mother’s name. Quite the character. Yes, that was one way of putting it. Amy shoved the bitterness aside and felt a chill raise the hair on her neck. Subtly looking around, she noticed nothing out of place. Just fun and games. Why was she feeling so skittish? Doing her best to ignore the creepy sensations, yet staying alert for any suspicious
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