9
Sage
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CADEN’S HOME WAS actually pretty nice considering the neighborhood, which was a little sketchy. The house itself was a small, dark-gray two-story bungalow built in the sixties. It had an open porch that wrapped around the house and a two-car garage off to the side. The yard was fairly large, and I noticed a new swing-set off to the side.
Before I could get my seatbelt off, Phalen was out of the car and running toward the porch with her backpack. I got out of the vehicle and followed her.
“I don’t think he’s home yet,” I called out to her as I approached the steps.
“That’s okay.” She pulled a key out of her backpack and began unlocking the door.
“I think he wanted us to wait outside.”
She looked at me over her shoulder. “But I have to go to the bathroom.”
“Oh. Okay.
