Dad's truck and Mom's car were both in the driveway when I pulled up, so I knew they were home. I tucked my own car in behind Dad's to make sure I was off the street-stupid parking laws drove me nuts sometimes-and hoofed it to their front door. I didn't knock or slow down, barreling my way through and into the front entry. I did pause long enough to shed my boots, hopping and swearing softly under my breath as I tugged at the zippers and kicked them off sideways before sliding ...