Page 22 of Hunting Time

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Find the domain of functionf(x) =.

Her daughter glanced down and then returned to polishing a nail.

“Hannah,” Parker said. Usually her mother referred to the girlin the light, truncated form of her name. The full two syllables contained a hint of warning.

Without looking up, the girl recited, “The domain’s the intersection of two sets.” She lifted a pen and wrote the answer in fast, careless script:

The first set is x≤1. The second is −2

Her mother blinked and gave a soft laugh. “That’s right.”

Hannah’s expression said: obviously.

Parker raised her hand, five-high. The girl grimaced and returned an unenthusiastic tap.

Lord...

Parker was hardly surprised at the speed of the correct answer. The girl’s brilliance had been obvious for years. It just mystified her that she made the calculations so effortlessly, while Parker herself labored to arrive at the finish line.

So why did the girl have so little interest in a subject she was so good at, while preferring the arts: photography, drawing and writing?

“Get the rest of them done.”

“Okay.” A pause. “I was texting Kyle?”

“Were you?” Something was brewing. Parker measured responses. “How is he?”

“Cool. He says you’re pretty.”

“That’s very sweet.”

Another glance at a question. Hannah jotted more numbers, letters and symbols on the homework sheet. This answer too was right. The girl said, “He’s going to the mall tomorrow. He’s got to pick up a present for his brother.”

Hannah was clearly asking if she could join him. Students as young as thirteen or fourteen pseudo-dated—really just hanging outtogether, more flirtatious than anything, and in theory Parker had no problem with her daughter doing so. But her mother’s swelling unease usually kicked in and derailed plans.

Parker warned her daughter about the level of crime in the tough, under-policed city of Ferrington, which was certainly true.

But she didn’t tell her the full truth.

About how much risk they both might be in because of her ex.

And so she kept the girl close.

But now, in a reward for her tackling the homework, she said, “I think that’ll work out.”

In response to the tacit question: Can I go too?

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Finish up. Pizza for dinner?”

A bright smile.

She’d use the meal to learn more about Kyle. She’d met him twice and he seemed nice. She wanted to know more.

Shivering, she headed into her bedroom to change into jeans and, what else, given the temperature? A sweatshirt.

On the way to her dresser she glanced at her phone, lying faceup on the bed.


Tags: Jeffery Deaver Thriller