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sympathetic smile and said, "Don't feel sorry for me, Daisy. My dad's busy, but he loves me."
    "What's not to love?" I replied.
    She bumped my shoulder. "Now, let's pick out a movie. What do you want? Action adventure? Horror? Romantic comedy?"
    "I've had enough horror in my life lately," I answered. "So no vampires fighting with werewolves. How about a nice, safe romantic comedy?"
    "Want some popcorn?" Samantha said.
    "Can we eat in here?"
    "Sure," she said. "Dad said everything can be replaced."
    Her dad seemed fairly cool about his new possessions, especially considering that the Devereaux family had been having financial problems not that long ago.
    "How about I make some caramel corn?" I said. My stomach growled. The fries we'd split at Slim's obviously hadn't satisfied my hunger pangs.
    "And let's get a pizza," she replied. "Dad left me a bunch of cash." She took out a stack of what looked like hundreds and took out a bill, then replaced the money in the kitchen drawer.
    After we ordered a large pizza with chicken, white sauce, and extra garlic, I started on the caramel corn. I popped the kernels and then put a stick of butter into a shiny new high-end copper pot and turned the burner on low heat.
    The doorbell rang, and I assumed it was the pizza delivery person, but then I heard Samantha and it sounded like she was arguing with someone. Something in her voice made me shut off the stove and rush to the front door.
    "No, he's not here right now," she said. "Can I take a message?"
    "What's up?" I said, moving in front of her protectively.
    "She's here for my father," Sam said. "Who, as I said before," she emphasized, "Is. Not. Here."
    The woman's face was in shadow, but she gave an annoyed grunt at the news that Mr. Devereaux was not available. A hat concealed most of her face, but I noticed a small purplish birthmark on her jaw.
    "I'll wait," she said, and made an attempt to push her way in. I slammed the door in her face and threw the deadbolt.
    "I must see him," she said. "It's important or I wouldn't be here. Tell him it's Trinity."
    "Go away," I shouted through the door. "Right now, or I'm calling the cops."
    Sam had already grabbed the phone, but the stranger gave up. Her heels clicked as she walked away.
    "Do you think we should call the police?" she asked.
    "No, she was probably just..." I hesitated, not sure of a polite way to put it.
    "Looking for a booty call?" Sam collapsed into a fit of giggles. "Gross, Giordano."
    "I just meant, you know, after the divorce, your dad probably wants to, er, date again."
    "I can't say much for his choice of women," she said. "First Ms. Tray, and now this weirdo."
    Ms. Tray had been our high school guidance counselor for a very short time. She was attractive on the outside but pure evil on the inside.
    "I've heard it's tough to be single," I said. I smothered a few giggles of my own. "I think I recognized her, though."
    "I've never seen her before," Sam said.
    "I think she's the substitute postal carrier," I said. "She was delivering mail on my street the other day."
    "Whoever she is, she's weird," Sam said. "I hope Dad isn't serious about her."
    When the doorbell rang again a few minutes later, we both jumped, but it was only the pizza guy.
    "Thanks for staying with me, Daisy," Samantha said. "You're a good friend."
    I was embarrassed by her gratitude. "You have caramel corn in your teeth," I said.
    She laughed. "Cut it out," she said. "And just take my thank-you."
    "Okay," I said. "You're welcome. Now hand over a slice of that pizza." And I took a huge bite so I wouldn't start blubbering. This might be one of the last nights like this, especially if I didn't get into UC Nightshade.
    Sam read my mind. "You'll get in, Daisy. I know it."
    The rest of the night was filled with calories, gossip, and fun. Thankfully, the strange woman did not make another appearance.

CHAPTER EIGHT
    After work on Saturday, I decided to head out to do some research. So much had happened that my