I called her, asking about whether Marissa worked weekends. ‘Not usually. Sometimes they call her in because someone else can’t make it. But today...she’s free,’ Kat replied. ‘Could you get her to call me? I have a feeling it’s now or never. Please. You know how much this means to me,’ I said. ‘Okay. I’ll get her in touch with you as soon as I can.’ It was a long wait. I guessed Kat was having difficulty getting hold of Marissa. The brief time I had her on Facebook it was hours between messages. I heard my daughter say. What the hell?&hellip,my dad is gone bowling, who the hell can that be? Who is it?&hellip,..silence &hellip,.I pushed open the door quickly and stepped in with my back to the door. Six screeching girls later&hellip, My daughter says: Who are you!!! &hellip,silence. We preplanned for her to pretend to call on her cell phone. I pointed to her and growled out a NO. She stopped. She said: You better get the hell out of here, my dad has a shotgun, and when he gets home he. More

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