"Fuck," I whispered. I couldn't see into the kitchen and not even a shadow of her cast out. If she started cooking, I might risk moving. Maybe to the ...edroom across from me. But she was back soon enough with a half-full bottle of vodka dangling from her right hand. She aimed for the couch, sat, and found the remote.The television flicked on and, I assumed, the DVD player. I couldn't see the screen but, from all the grunting and moaning, it was surely a porno flick. The sound covered my moves as. Not to my real parents as I would soon be caught,but over the border to Scotland, to live in the glens like Bonnie PrinceCharlie when he was on the run from the redcoats centuries ago. Poachingsalmon, hiding in the heather...no. First the tracker would give meaway; I would be caught and given severe punishment, maybe even thedeath penalty. I touched my necklace and thought of the small explosivecharge in it that was strong enough to blow my neck apart.And if I did manage to escape capture, what. More

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