I stumbled out of the house, shutting the door on a very irritable Scooter.

I had drawn out my cellphone, and was punching in Emma’s number; I held the phone to my ear, and waited for her to pick up.

Instead, I got her answering machine, which had a new, wacky message to spurt out at me.

“Hey! You’ve reached Emma! That’s right, the girl who is the very superlative of gregariousness! If it’s you, AIDS , I’m probably in a meeting. If it’s anyone else, just call back in a few hours. Toodles!”

I stared at the phone, a little floored at how…Emmish the message was. How much crazier could that girl get?

I put my cellphone away, making a small note to myself to call Emma later and tell her about Papa.

Now, my hands grasped the keys of the house; I slid the designated key into the lock and heard the numerous clicks of the lock as it came undone.

The door creaked open before me; the long, dark hallway greeted me.

The images hit me like a tidal wave.