Stevie sighed. She knew she was a good mom. She had been especially attentive to the needs of her fourteen-year-old daughter and nine-year-old son after the horrible crisis with her oldest child two years earlier. But instead of arguing the point with the director, she had agreed to be at the camp by seven-thirty to pick up Shawna for sneaking out to meet boys. Taking another gulp of tepid drive-through coffee, she silently urged the caffeine to slap her awake. With any luck she would be back to watch Collin's soccer match at eleven.
A pizza party was scheduled for Collin's team after the match. Perfect, Stevie thought. That will give me a couple hours to run errands and— She groaned aloud, remembering that Shawna would be at home and seriously grounded this afternoon, meaning that Stevie would be staying close to home with her. Why is punishment always harder on the parents than on the kids? she mused.
Stevie drove. Her stomach was knotted with anxiety over endless questions to which she had repeatedly awakened through the short night. Also gnawing at Stevie was the realization of what could have happened to the two defenseless girls.
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