“Bryan!” I exclaim as I answer the door. “Where have you been? It’s been over 20 minutes!” He shuffles in, hangs his coat, and throws his wallet on the table. “We had a bad accident at the station tonight,” he says softly, as if almost whispering. “Oh, really?” I ask “another rear ender?” “No. actually,” he mutters, his lips begining to tremble. “A girl, about Alex’s age was struck by a car.” My hand flys to my mouth and my heart drops. “That’s awful,” I manage to sputter out. “She was a beautiful little girl too. Blue eyes and blonde curly hair,” he informs me. My head jolts up and my eyes widen.