Results of the Edgar Allan Poe Award® in the year 1982.
For as long as I can remember, It’s just been Daddy and me. I can’t remember my mother. I was told she died in an accident when I was four, and that’s all I know about her. I don’t understand why there isn’t even a picture of her. The other thing I don’t understand is why we’re always moving—different towns—with no explanations. I know something is wrong. It begins with my birth certificate—my only link to my mother. Then I overhear a conversation: “Tell terri the truth ,” Why are we moving all the time? Are we running away from something or someone? What kind of secret is Daddy hiding…and why can’t he share it with me.