Read Online Shackled by Tom Leveen - Free Book Online Page A

of not being able to think at all.”
    That was no lie. Then again, thinking hadn’t gotten me very far lately.
    â€œWell, maybe they need to change them up,” Mom said. “It’s not an exact science, you know. Maybe you need a new dosage, or a new kind . . .”
    I stared at her, long enough and in a silence so cold she couldn’t miss it.
    â€œWhat?” she said.
    â€œChange the dosage,” I said slowly. “Okay.”
    I walked out of the kitchen and into my room, ignoring Jeffrey and his video game in the living room. I closed my door, squatted on the floor, and screamed into my elbow.
    After screaming for about three or four years straight, myvocal cords as raw as rancid hamburger, I stayed hunkered on the floor, wishing for the little yellow pills my doctor had prescribed after Tara was taken. They’d usually knock me out cold, and if they didn’t, I could at least spend the next six to eight hours comfortably numb to the world. That’s what I wanted more than anything right then.
    By the time I stood up, my knees practically creaked. I must’ve been down there for a while. I lost track of time on occasion. I turned on my laptop and clicked a link in my favorites folder: missingkids.com.
    Ten Tips for a Safe Holiday Season
    NCMEC Announces New Training
    Have You Seen These Children?
    Like I did every day, then every week, and eventually every month, I entered Tara’s information in the search box and clicked it. Her poster gazed back at me, the school photo from fourth grade centered on the page beside one of the age-enhanced ones Larson had shown me. I’d never seen that image on this site before. Had it been that long since I had checked out her page? How long had they had an age-enhanced photo posted?
    Like I said, I tended to lose track of time.
    Guilt filled me up like it came from a hose jammed into my mouth. A full-pressure blast punching holes in all my digestive organs. Some friend I was.
    I squinted at the photo, letting my eyes tennis-match between the fourth-grade photo and the new one. I didn’tsee anything new or different. Both photos were Tara, pretty much. I wished I could go back to yesterday and get one more good look at her.
    I clicked the page closed and checked my phone. The low-battery indicator was already on. That reminded me of David texting me yesterday to let me know I was running late. He didn’t have to do that. Eli kept a master list of everyone’s cell, but we rarely used it. And David sure as hell didn’t have to drive me all over town.
    Except on occasion for work, I’d never texted David before. But then after yesterday at the Hole in the Wall, and today, him seeing me in all my panicky glory, it occurred to me that I didn’t really have anything to hide from him.
    And I didn’t have to act like I did toward him at the park. That’s what we used to pay Dr. Carpenter for. Ha-ha.
    Dr. Carpenter had been a nice-enough woman, and I really had gotten better while I saw her. I mean, I could leave the house now, and even hold down a job, clearly. Before that I’d just stayed indoors and faked my way through my online classes, read books, watched movies, and perfected my slicing. If I hadn’t seen Tara at the shop, maybe I would’ve made the transition from basket case to functional human being. Like I’d planned. Maybe that wasn’t to be.
    Dr. Carpenter couldn’t bring Tara back, or change my Dad’s schedule, or make my mom stop worrying about money and work all the time.
    But . . .
    Now, here was a new idea.
    Maybe I could.
    I reopened my browser and searched for find license plate owner . I brought up a whole list of sites that claimed I could look up anyone by their plate number. Most of them, no doubt, were totally bogus. I started clicking around, looking for signs of legitimacy.
    I settled on a site that looked legit, and entered the info I’d