The Advocate's Daughter Read Online Free PDF

comic books, some wooden nunchucks, and a throwing star, the types of precious cultural artifacts only a fourteen-year-old could fully appreciate. Under it all, a pile of vinyl albums. His collection from when he was a kid. He flipped through them. AC/DC, Quiet Riot, Van Halen, and some embarrassing ones, Night Ranger, Duran Duran. He pulled out one of his old favorites, Def Leppard’s Pyromania. The soundtrack of his youth. He wiped a hand across the cover, clearing away the dust.
    A chill fell over him. Just a few days ago he’d heard “Rock of Ages” on the radio and it had thrust him back to that night. In fact, Japan had crossed his mind more than once in recent days—the familiar pit in his stomach, the faintest shortness of breath. It had been so long since he’d thought about it, dwelled on it, that he sometimes wondered if it was all a bad dream. An old movie he’d seen that he had latched on to in his memories as real. But it was real. All too real. The memories had resurfaced with such vigor, he assumed, because of all the attention he was getting about the possible Supreme Court nomination. Paranoia.
    He realized that he was kneading the palm of his left hand with his thumb, feeling the ridges of the scar. The three of them had each cut into their palms to seal their blood oath. They’d used the same blade that killed the storekeeper and swore to never speak a word of that night for the rest of their lives. Sean reflected on the melodrama of it (to say nothing of the unsanitariness of using the same blade). Then the questions that had long haunted him fired through his brain: Why did Kenny do it? And why hadn’t Sean seen it coming? He could’ve stopped him. And why, when Sean had immediately broken his oath and gone to his father for help, had his dad chosen to bury it all?
    Sean pulled out the disc from the Def Leppard sleeve and blew on the black vinyl. He debated whether to look inside the sleeve to see if the item was still there. He told himself not to. But he slid his hand inside the cardboard and felt for it. The paper touched his fingertips, and he took in a deep breath before sliding it out. He flattened the newspaper clipping on the top of the cardboard box. It was wrinkled and yellowed and written in a language he couldn’t read. It was incredibly stupid to keep it, but he just could never quite part with it. The newspaper photo of the Japanese storekeeper stared up at him. He heard his father’s voice. You will tell no one. Ever. This is about more than just you, Sean. Another voice pulled him out of it.
    â€œWhatcha doin’?” Jack’s head popped up from the hole in the floor, eyes wide, mouth agape. The gopher from Caddy Shack. An attic is a magical place for a seven-year-old.
    Sean fumbled to shove the newspaper clipping back into the album sleeve.
    â€œHey, buddy,” Sean said. “Be careful on the ladder there.”
    â€œMom said it’s time to get ready for dinner.”
    â€œOkay, I’ll be down in a minute.”
    â€œCan I come in? I’ll be careful. I’ll—”
    â€œSorry, pal. Too dangerous. Lots of nails sticking out and it’s dark up here.”
    â€œAw, man. That’s what Abby said too.” Jack frowned.
    â€œAbby was up here?”
    â€œYep.”
    â€œWhen was that?”
    â€œThe other day.”
    â€œWhat was she doing?”
    â€œI dunno. She was looking at that box there.” Jack pointed to the JAPAN box. “She was digging through the same stuff you’re looking at.”

 
    CHAPTER 7
    At ten-thirty, Sean walked up the stairs and found Emily in the bathroom. She was leaning over the sink washing her face. Her nightgown didn’t quite reach the back of her thighs. Even after all these years, the sight of the curve of her bottom caused Sean to stir.
    â€œI tried calling her again,” Sean said. He unbuttoned his shirt. “It went straight to