3 - Nindede (My father)
Dad was awake when I got home. He paced back and forth in the living room and waved his hands around. There was a clock on the wall behind him, 9:30.
“Cady, come here. I want to know where you’ve been!” His words sounded like little bursts of thunder.
“Uh, out,” I replied. My legs started to shake, a sure giveaway that I wasn’t telling the whole truth. I hated when that happened.
“That’s obvious. But where exactly were you when you were out?”
I’ve got one of those faces that can’t cover up the truth. I hate that about myself. When my little cousins ask me if Santa Claus is real, I tell them I don’t know and to ask someone else. And then I have to leave the room.
“I thought you knew I went out and that it was okay. You were sleeping on the couch and I didn’t wa
