The Before Read Online Free

daughters.”
    “Ma’am, there’s no need to get violent.” His hand dropped to the butt of his weapon.
    “I’m not violent. But I am a lawyer and as far as I know it’s not illegal to drive my children anywhere I want.”
    I pressed myself back against the seat of the Toyota. I had never once heard Mom play the lawyer card. It freaked me out that she was playing it now. Between that and the aggressive tone of the police officer, I didn’t know what to think. If the rate of the sllluuunks coming from the backseat was any indication, Mel was even more freaked out than I was.
    “Ma’am, you are obviously unaware the governor declared martial law.”
    “When?”
    “Less than an hour ago.”
    “That’s—”
    “Which puts you in violation of the mandatory five p.m. curfew in addition to trying to illegally transport adolescents over the county line.”
    “That’s not illegal!” my mother protested. Her entire body radiated tension. She was leaning toward the door, like she was ready to leap from the car and take this guy down.
    The officer inched closer and leaned in through the window. “Ma’am, I’m going to let you off with a warning, but I will be escorting you back to your place of residence. I need to see your driver’s license to verify your address.”
    “I do not need to be escorted home!”
    He thrust his hand through the window, making Mom jerk back. “Your license. Please.”
    Even though the words were polite, his snarling tone said it all. This was a man pushed to his limits. What had started as a routine stop had devolved quickly.
    “Not until I see your badge!” Mom’s hand went to the keys, like she was about to start the car and drive off.
    From the back of the car, Mel let out a low keening noise. She was seconds away from losing it completely.
    The officer shined his flashlight into the back of the car, where Mel rocked. It flickered over her features briefly before returning to Mom’s face. “What’s wrong with her?” he asked sharply.
    “With who?” my mother asked back.
    “With her.” He jerked his light toward the backseat.
    Mom stiffened, indignation blazing in her eyes. “My daughter is on the autism spectrum. There is nothing wrong with her.”
    For the first time in days, Mom seemed like her old self. I wanted to cheer.
    Until I saw the fear flicker across the police officer’s face. Mel moaned in distress and he recoiled in revulsion.
    Yeah. I’d seen that response to Mel before, especially when she was younger. People in restaurants or the grocery store who were repulsed by Mel’s differentness. People who would pull their own children closer to them to somehow protect them from her. As if autism was something that might spread. As if it were a virus. As if having it made Mel a monster.
    When people responded to Mel like that, it embarrassed me or angered me. It had never frightened me. Until now. Until I saw it in the eyes of a man armed with a gun.
    I saw his hand tighten on the butt of his weapon, saw him flick open the snap on his holster.
    Panicked, I lunged forward and grabbed my mom’s arm.
    “It’s okay,” I said desperately. “Let’s just go home.”
    Mom looked at me with panic-glazed eyes. “He has no right—”
    I leaned past her to talk to the officer. “We live at 1213 Green Dale.”
    I reached for my purse, but the officer whipped out his gun. “Hands where I can see them!”
    Mom yelped and threw herself in front of me. “Jesus!”
    “I’m just getting out my wallet!” I shrieked.
    Mel started rocking, panicked and fearful.
    “Hands where I can see them!” he demanded again, his gaze darting from the front seat to the back. From me and Mom to Mel.
    “I’m just reaching for my wallet,” I said again, trying—desperately—to be the calm one here, because everyone else seemed to be spiraling out of control. “My wallet is in my purse. You can see my license. It has our home address on it.”
    “Has she been exposed to the