It was a cold January night in 2011 and I was working on an article for the local newspaper on my home computer when my mom called, panicked.
“Your dad was just robbed. He chased them down the alley and almost fell on the ice. He thinks he knows who it is,” said my frantic mother.
As she was talking, I heard my Mustang pull into the driveway. Kiana had driven it to work, at the restaurant.
“Kiana, dad was just robbed. Did you see anything suspicious when you were leaving?”
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