Таинственная история Билли Миллигана

           BehindhimhesawtheoldVictorianred-brickmansionwiththewhitecolumns,andinfrontofhimtheriverandthetown.Strollingalongthegrass,herealizedthatbeforeRosalieDrakehelpedhimatHardingHospital,hecouldnotwalkoutsidelikethis—withoutterror.

           Suddenly,henoticedsomeprettylittlewhiteflowers.Hepickedafew,butsawthatonthehighergroundtheblossomswerelarger.Followingtheflowersupthehillandaroundthegate,hefoundhimselfnearasmallcemetery.Themarkershadnonames—onlynumbers—andhewonderedwhy.Thememoryofbeingburiedalivewhenhewasnineyearsoldmadehimtremble,andhebackedaway.Therewouldhavebeenneitheranamenoranumberonhisgrave.

           Dannysawthattheblossomswerelargestatthetopofthehill,sohekeptclimbinguntilhereachedacliffthatdroppedoffsharply.Hemovedtotheedgeandbracedhimselfagainstatreeashelookedattheroadbelow,theriverandthehouses.

           Suddenlyheheardcarsscreechingandsawflashinglightsinthecurvedroadbeneathhim.Lookingdownmadehimdizzy.Verydizzy.Hestartedtoswayforwardwhenheheardavoicebehindhimsay,"Billy,comedown."

           Helookedaround.Whywereallthesepeoplesurroundinghim?Whywasn’tArthurorRagenheretoprotecthim?Hisfootslippedandpebblesunderhisfeetbounceddownthecliffside.Thenamanreachedforhishand.Dannytookitandheldonasthemanpulledhimbacktosafety.