She had my build, honey blonde hair, and my face, but John's eyes. Those beautiful brown eyes of his! If anyone were to compare their eyes, there would be no doubt they were related.

The swing slowly moved back and forth, and she softly cried. I wasn't sure if it was embarrassment or shame making her cry, but rather than hurt her trying to figure it out, I just held her.

There was a big red button on the bank of dials, thingies and whatchamacallits in front of the steering wheel.

‘Well, would you both like to press that button?’

Protective Coloring

Humans are a weird species.

Yeah, I know, that’s probably not a shock, but let me give you an example.

You may have noticed that if you hang around people with a particular accent or way of speaking, you start to pick it up, and sound more like them the more time you spend with them.

I guess its like protective coloring. We want to belong, to not stand out.

Like I knew a fellow who moved from Canada to Nashville, and within a year, he was you’alling like a native, and there are other examples I could give you.

Basking in victory made Lori being sent to her room easy to take. Even with how angry her dad was and being told she was punished, Lori was enjoying being in what her dad thought was a prison cell. To her, this was just a holding pen and her mom would grant her a partial pardon. She would be able to do anything when the warden, her dad, was not home.

 
Prologue

Hi. My name is Sam Spaulding, police Lieutenant with Brooklyn 99... I mean the 99th precinct of the New York city police. Or was, anyway. I was happy with my life. Well, happy-ish, anyway.