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I shoved my key to the front door, and was about to call out when I noticed how suspiciously dark the downstairs was. I was about to call out for Mom when I heard giggles upstairs. It seemed like my parent’s room light was on.I didn’t like the twisting feeling in my gut- I knew something was wrong. A part of me wanted to drive off and forget about it, but then I remembered that I need my portfolio. If I really wanted to be honest, I was curious. There’s suspicions, and then there’s finding out for myself.Like a cat burglar, I snuck up the stairs. I knew the house inside out so I knew where to avoid to set off the creaky floorboards. As I got closer the stairs, I heard the giggles growing in volume. It was feminine. So it was either Mom or it wasn’t and I didn’t know which I preferred.The fact that Dad’s car wasn’t here either niggled at me.I passed my bedroom once I reached the top. Mom and Dad’s room was at the end down the hallway. The giggles were loud and free- I suppose that. Even the plane trip was new to her. Flying over the countryside, she was in awe of the view. The other passengers were so blase, so jaded, most never even looked out the tiny windows. But Betsy was thrilled. She felt that her entry onto the plane was her entry into Wonderland. Nothing would be the same again, and, as she looked out at the landscape, she wondered if that wasn’t a good thing. As she left the plane, she was pushed along by the throngs of people. Again, she worried. How would she ever find her way through the airport? To her uncle’s house? Suddenly, to her right, she saw her name. BETSY QUINN was printed in bright red paint on a sign. It was held upright by a gentleman in a dark suit. When she stopped in front of him, he smiled and asked if she was Betsy. She nodded, amazed. ‘I am James Douglas. Your uncle sent me to pick you up and drive you to the house. Let me have your claim tickets.’ Betsy gave him all the paperwork she was clutching tightly in her fist and followed.
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