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C L E A N B R E A K David Klein B R O A D WAY B O O K S New York This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fi ctitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Copyright © 2012 by David Klein All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Broadway Books, an imprint of the Crown Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York. www.crownpublishing.com broadway books and the Broadway Books colophon are registered trade-marks of Random House, Inc. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Klein, David (David Matthew) Clean break : a novel / David Klein. p. cm. 1. Mothers and sons—Fiction. 2. Family violence—Fiction. 3. Inter-personal relations—Fiction. 4. Psychological fiction. I. Title. PS3611.L4435C57 2012 813`.6—dc23 2011041589 ISBN 978-0-307-71683-5 eISBN 978-0-307-59025-1 Printed in the United States of America 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 First Edition 1 You can’t ask your nine- year- old for advice on how to con-jure up an imaginary friend, but it might be nice to have such a companion. A confidant for sharing private feelings. A soul mate for lonely nights. Spencer didn’t seem worse for it, most of the time. In fact, since he’d taken Kathy as his friend, he had become a better listener and made eye contact when speaking with Celeste. He never complained of being bored. He per-formed better in school. Celeste researched the subject and believed Spencer ad-opted an imaginary friend to help work through his father’s absence. The therapist she’d taken him to agreed with this as-sessment, although other self- proclaimed experts on the In-ternet stated that age nine was too old for such make- believe, potentially indicating an inability to separate fantasy from reality. How about age thirty-four? What would the experts say if Celeste adopted a pretend pal? She wouldn’t mind a break from reality. She could use some comforting. “Spencer,” she called from the bottom of the stairs. “What are you doing up there?” No response, although she could hear him talking. She climbed the stairs and found him in the hallway sprawled across one of the stuffed plastic garbage bags, rocking back and forth as if on a raft in the water, his face buried in his book, reading aloud. ... - tailieumienphi.vn
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