I was eight when it happened. I opened the thick oak front door, heavy for me at that age, and stepped inside, then dropped my schoolbag and headed fo... the kitchen. Usually, my father was sitting at the table reading the paper, and my mother would be washing dishes or some other mundane chore. Now that I reminisce about them, there was something pleasantly 1950’s about this routine. I sat down at the table, and sensed something was off. Usually my mother would have a drink for me on the table. On the good weekends she would get home in the evening on Sunday. She told me to just not burn down the house and don’t do anything she was going to have to ask me about when the credit cards came due. She knew nothing of the $5,000 bonus for the last job that I had in my own account. I assured her I was always good.I was just planning on being good in Tucson, not Ohio this weekend!There was a car in the drive and one parked in the street as I pulled up to the address. Sarah had told me she. More

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