Page 1 of Shatter

PROLOGUE

Hakon

Twenty Years Ago…

Oslo, Norway

Mamma won't let go of my hand.

Not in the taxi. Not now, standing at the counter while the lady in the blue scarf types on her computer and smiles at me for too long.

Outside the big windows it's still dark. Snow blows sideways under the orange lights.

A plane blinks red on the runway, waiting.

"Say it again," Mamma whispers.

She bends down to fix my collar slowly, one hand braced on the counter. Everything she does is slow since the hospital.

"Breckett Hale."

"Again."

I say it again, and the B comes out fine, but the rest sticks in my mouth like caramel.

It doesn't sound like a boy. It sounds like something you'd yell at a dog.

"Good." Her thumb rubs the back of my hand, over and over. "Good, gutten min."

She's wearing makeup. Mamma never wears makeup.

It's thick along her jaw where the bruise has gone yellow, and there's a row of tiny black stitches at her hairline she tried to hide with her bangs.

Her other hand is on her stomach.

It's always on her stomach now.

Before, her stomach was big and hard, and at night she'd pull my hand under her shirt so I could feel the baby kick.

Mamma let me pick the name. Liv. She said it means life.

Nobody says Liv anymore.

Nobody says anything about her at all.

The lady behind the counter hands Mamma a plastic pouch on a long blue string, and Mamma hangs it around my neck.

Inside is a passport with my picture. My hair's too long in it.

The name next to my face belongs to somebody else.

"Where am I going?"

Mamma crouches in front of me. It hurts her. She makes a sound through her teeth and pretends she didn't.

"America."

"Why?"