3
DAPHNE
I told my sister Maggie during our daily debrief. “You’ll never guess who I saw at work day…”
“Oh, I bet I can.” I could practically see her playful grin. “Let me think. Tony Drago?”
“What the hell? How did you know?” I asked.
“I didn’t win investigative journalist of the year for nothing. Besides, there’s only one guy that makes your voice do the thing.”
“Do what?”
“If I had to describe it, I’d say you’re purring. Like a cat.”
“Cut it out,” I laughed.
“I’m serious. It’s as if someone just set an open can of tuna down in front of your cold, dead, feline heart.” Maggie teased. Normally my stomach would have fisted tightly at the mention of tuna since I always skipped breakfast for economic reasons. But as she spoke, I was nuking a slice of Mediterranean pizza. A certain It
