Randy Foxx had suspected that today would be like all the other days that preceded it. He would wake up in his quiet house and pretend he had a big family waiting for him in the living room. He'd eat a huge breakfast at the table with his nonexistent family, which of course would mean he'd pour himself a bowl of cereal. Then he'd spend his Saturday sitting around his house, watching TV and trying to pretend that his heart wasn't broken into a million pieces.
The last thing he had expected was that phone call, and now he couldn't get a hold of Savannah. It was like she knew everywhere he was going to be and went somewhere else. At school, she hadn't gone to her locker when she used to. She hadn't been anywhere to find during lunch. And after school, she'd gotten a ride home, usually leavin
