EIGHTEEN
Angie’s father was relaxing on the balcony, enjoying a peaceful evening. They had finished eating dinner. Her mother was reading in the bedroom and she was watching TV in the living room. Her parents had just closed on their investment, so her dad was feeling inspired to begin work at the house. His maintenance duties would have to blend with his new job of fixing up the Victorian. Tonight, he was enjoying reading the newspaper. Life had swung back to normal after she had been found in the sinkhole.
“Holy cow,” Joe said aloud, taking a second read of the first few sentences in an article, and then continuing through to the end. He got up from the chair and came inside, tossing the paper at Angie. “Read that first article. That’s your diner.”
Angie opened the newspaper to the he
