23
I plugged the camcorder into my computer and uploaded the file.
My hand shook as I clicked Play.
And there I was, sitting there in my big coat and jeans and headphones, waiting for the meditation to kick in.
And then, blip, there I wasn’t.
I rewound and replayed the sequence about a dozen more times, because even though the evidence was right there in front of me, I still couldn’t possibly believe it.
Now it wasn’t just my hand shaking, it was my whole body. I felt like any minute the CIA was going to burst through my door and arrest me for violating the laws of nature. I wanted to hide the video, but I also wanted to make copies—a lot of copies—to protect myself. From what, I didn’t know.
What if my mother ever found that? What if she were looking on my computer for something, a
