I looked down at the directions and frowned. Maple Hurst Drive, is that what I’d written or was it Maple View? God my handwriting sucks. I should have been there hours ago. The only thing worse then my handwriting is my sense of direction. I slowed the car. I should never be sent on long road trips alone, I always get lost. It’s like a law of nature. I put the directions on the dashboard where I could easily find them. I’d already lost them once during this trip. It had taken a good fifteen minutes and a search of the trunk, glove compartment, and back seat to finally locate the missing piece of paper with my scribble on it. I’d left my hotel this morning at nine and went promptly to the airport. Other people may not like to fly, but that versus spending countless hours lost on the interstate, I’ll take the chance of crashing. Now I was wishing the flight could have taken me directly to Donna’s house. I hadn’t seen her since I was eleven. She’d been one of my older sister’s best friends. When Valerie died, we’d cried together. That had been fifteen years ago. Two days ago my mother received word from a lawyer in New Mexico that Donna had been killed and that she and my father were listed as the legal guardians for her two children. Mom and Dad were out of the country on their second honeymoon and couldn’t book a flight back to the states for another week. It was became my duty to go and fetch the kids and take them home. Yeah me, the one who never babysat as a teenager, and as an adult I didn’t want to start.