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Sunday, March 9, 2014

March 9: A QUIET PLACE

      "Nathan?" Max's voice cracked over the phone, sounding like it had the time she had spent six hours straight narrating a fundraising marathon basketball game for their youth group.
      "What's the news?" Nathan asked, turning his face away from the receiver so she wouldn't hear him gasping from running to catch the phone. He hoped.
      "I'm heading for Glenwood tomorrow. Can you take off and come with me? Dad won't let me take the car and drive all that distance alone, in this weather."
      "Why?" He felt instantly awake, as if he had been doused with a bucket of icy water.
      "I just got an email from Jeannette." Max sighed, her voice ragged. "Brody's dead."

      "Doesn't matter if they let me off the roster or not. I'm going."

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