Broken Wings (Broken Wings 1)

He paused and thought a moment, nodding to himsel

f.

“What?”

“You must really hate her,” he said.

That made me pensive.

“I don’t hate her,” I said. “Just the opposite. I wish I had a mother.”

“You and me both,” Del said.

He walked me to the door, pausing at his mother’s bedroom to listen. It was dead quiet.

“She’ll sleep into the late morning and then tell me I’m lying about everything I said happened.”

“I’m sorry about her,” I said. I really meant I was sorry for him and his brother and sister. He nodded and followed me out to the car.

We kissed and I got in and started away. I was more than halfway home when I saw the police car behind me, its bubble light going. I checked my speedometer. I wasn’t speeding. They pulled alongside and waved me off the highway. As soon as I stopped, I heard one of them through the loudspeaker on their vehicle.

“Get out of the vehicle with your hands up,” he ordered.

“What?” I cried.

What was going on?

“Out of the vehicle now!”

Heart pounding, I stepped out and kept my hands up.

“Lie down on the road and put your arms straight up,” I heard.

On the dirty road? I thought. I started to turn to argue when I saw one of the policemen was out of the vehicle and had his pistol drawn and pointed at me. I practically fainted. I went to my knees and then slowly did what they had asked. Moments later, I heard them beside me.

One took my left arm and brought it around behind me, then took my right arm and did the same. The handcuffs were locked on my wrists, and I was told to stand.

“What is this?” I cried.

“This car was reported stolen,” the officer who had put the handcuffs on me said.

“No, it’s my car. It’s my family’s car. I’m—”

“Move,” he ordered, turning me toward their vehicle.

“I’m not lying. Check my purse. Check the registration,” I pleaded.

Without responding, he opened the patrol car’s rear door and guided me into it, closing the door. I watched them search the SUV, and then they returned and got in.

“I’m Teal Sommers. That’s my family’s car!” I screamed when neither of them made any attempt to let me free. “Didn’t you look at my license?”

“Just relax,” the driver said. “The car was reported stolen, and that’s all we know.”

He drove off. I looked back at the Lexus and then slumped in the seat.

What was going on?

At the police station, they brought me to the desk and had me booked as a car thief. I was placed in a cell, and no matter how much I protested, no one stopped or seemed to care. Finally, because I remembered from watching movies, I asked to make my one phone call and I was led to a phone.