Vanessa Lafleur - Hope for the Best

V anessa Lafleur is a full-time high school English and creative writing teacher, competitive speech coach, and middle school volleyball coach. She lives in Nebraska and teaches at the school she graduated from.

Her absolute favorite part of teaching is helping her students discover their writing talents and hone their skills.

When she isnt in the classroom, grading research papers, or coaching at a speech meet, Vanessa enjoys spending time outside, reading, and of course, writing. Thanks to her amazing students and their encouragement, Vanessa was inspired to draft a story for them and anyone looking for an adventure about finding your place in the world.

Hope for the Best is her debut novel.

For more information about Vanessa and her book, visit www.vanessalafleur.com

T he northernmost part of the city stood impossibly still in a motionless state of decay. Another storm crawled along the horizon waiting for the perfect moment to attack with torrential rain and destructive winds. Dark, disintegrating buildings lined both sides of the street in what at one time had been a busy business district. Walls bowed toward the littered street, roofs sagged and crumbled onto rotting floors, and the windows that werent boarded up stared out as empty voids of darkness, sightless eyes that offered the false hope of a place to hide, to rest, to think.

Lareinas worn tennis shoes slapped rhythmically against cracked concrete. Resilient, creeping weeds reached for her ankles, while heavy, thudding bootsteps echoed between the buildings, urging her forward and strengthening her determination to elude Detective Galloway. She didnt bother to glance over her shoulder; she already knew he barreled toward her, not catching up, but not slowing down either.

Over the past week, she had run from one end of the city to the other in an attempt to circumvent the detective. To her advantage, she had spent two years living on the streets of San Antonio, and her knowledge of the city gave her an edge in the high-stakes game of hide-and-seek. She knew what time of the day she could avoid bystanders, where she could lose Galloway in a crowd of people, and places she could hide when caught off guard.

Empty storefronts blurred by in a rush of faded color. Gusty winds whistled through spaces between the damaged buildings, plastering her long hair over her eyes and blurring her vision. Although these challenges didnt slow her down, outrunning the detective wasnt an option. Three of her strides equaled one of his, and although she was quick, endurance to continue at that pace wasnt on her side.

Only hours earlier shed woken up, warm and comfortable, to the sound of soft rain on the roof of the public library. It was her second Galloway-free day, and she was starting to think maybe shed lost him. Luckily, she had planned her escape routes ahead of time and managed to climb through a basement window. It had given her a head start, but not enough to escape the detective permanently.

Lungs burning, legs aching, heart racing, Lareina knew she needed to stop and rest, if only for five minutes. Abruptly, she made a right turn into an alley that cut between the buildings to the next block, dodging overturned trash cans, empty crates, and split bags of trash years overdue for collection. Feeling lightheaded, she searched the alley for a dark corner, a crevice in the wall, or anything to hide under. Up ahead, a chest-high chain-link fence divided the alley in half.

On the other side of the fence, cluttered with old mattresses, dumpsters, and other unidentified rotting debris, she spotted her chance to hide, to rest, to lose the detective. Gasping for air, she propelled herself over the fence, darted down the alley, and squeezed herself into the space between a crumbling brick wall and a disintegrating mattress.

Heart knocking against her chest as frantically as a wild bird caught in a net, she forced herself to breathe in short, silent gulps. She raised her hand to her chest and outlined the shape of the strange pendant that hung from a chain around her neck, concealed beneath her t-shirt. She pictured the pendants polished black surface with white letters S-PE-R-O across the bottom. Absentmindedly, she traced the smooth, flat object. A slanted edge led to a rounded arch at the bottom, then back to a second slanted edge that ended in a point joining it to the first. Sometimes it reminded her of a teardrop and sometimes a slice of pizza, depending on her mood.

She didnt know what it was, only that Galloway wanted it more than anything. Poor Susans last garbled plea echoed in her head: Protect the pendant. Never let anyone... know... find... warn him. The girl had gasped those last words as a wound to her abdomen turned green grass red. She died because of the pendant now dangling icily against Lareinas skin.

Escape Detective Galloway, and youll be free, she reminded herself. Then you can find out what the pendant is and either throw it into the river or sell it for all its worth. The musty smell of the old wet mattress stifled her sinuses. Pinching her nose so she wouldnt gag or cough, she pushed a strand of long black hair away from her face and tugged at the side seam of her jeans, which were three inches too long for her short stature. Crouched on the soggy ground, she listened to a cricket chirp, flinched with each drip of cold water against her arm, and squeezed her eyes shut.

During her two-day library reprieve, she had forestalled her longing to get lost in the world of a book and instead had gathered every book on jewelry in the librarys catalog. She read up on valuable pendants made of diamonds, rubies, and pearls. She read about costume jewelry meant to imitate its more expensive counterpart. She flipped through picture after picture, so many she felt sure she could distinguish a real diamond necklace from a fake, but nothing resembling her pendant appeared in the books. According to all of her research, it couldnt be valuable. It couldnt be worth a week of Galloways time to retrieve, but still, he found her.

Water dripped onto her back and she shrugged in response to the tingling sensation. She wished she had spent time reading books about falling in love, traveling the world, winning a waranything but jewelry. Her research had been pointless, and in her seventeen years of life she had barely begun to read the millions of books in existence. The realization that she might never read another book, that she might never walk out of the alley, crashed over her like an immense wave, pulling her under and preventing her from ever reaching the surface. She couldnt remain still much longer and, more importantly, couldnt let Galloway win.

Resting her cheek against a brick wall, she noticed red powder around her feet, accumulating as the manmade stone crumbled over time. Leave San Antonio? It was no longer an option but a requirement for survival. She felt no attachment to the city; there was no building she called home, and there were no people she would miss. It was too easy for Galloway to find her there, but if she kept running until those familiar streets disappeared behind her, she could vanish into the population of any city she chose.

Footsteps crunched across the gravel alley and her muscles tensed.

One step. Two steps. Three.

What will happen if he gets the pendant?

Four. Five.

How does he keep finding me?

Six steps. Seven.

If he sees me, Im trapped.

She tilted her head to the left and spotted his oversized black boot through the gap between the mattress and the wall. Holding her breath she gripped the pendant tightly in one hand. She could keep herself still and her breathing quiet, but nothing could calm her desperate thoughts.