Seven years ago,
Mr. Hackett tapped a button on his table saw and pressed a piece of plywood forward.
"Mr. Hackett, stop!" Siggy called over the sound of the metal disk cutting into the panel.
The man stopped and frowned.
Siggy extended her arms and showed him a pair of orange earplugs and glasses.
"Jesus, kid! I should be the one telling you to wear safety gear," laughed Mr. Hackett.
"I learned from the best," she pointed at him, then screeched and held her stomach. "Sorry, those tacos from Wednesday are still killing me."
"I told you not to have the red sauce. How's that shelf coming out?" He chuckled as he walked toward a small unfinished box and inspected the screws. He tried to wiggle it, but the wood didn't move. "Excellent, you're good at this."
"Really?" She clapped her
