by Alex Exley
Copyright © 2011 Alex Exley and Humburger Publishing, Inc.
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Names, characters, places, and events are the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are at least 18 years of age.
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I was relaxing on the recliner in the living room watching Modern Marvels on the History Channel—this episode about drilling underground tunnels, if I remember correctly—when Carol, my wife of 19 years, walked into the room. I could tell by the look on her face that something was wrong. It had been a hectic day at work and I wasn’t in the mood for more problems, but I’d always been a caring husband and father, so I looked at her attentively and asked what was the matter.
“It’s Janie, Steve. We need to talk.”
Janie is our daughter. Her given name is Jane, but my wife and I call her Janie; perhaps it reminds us of her being our little girl. She’d graduated from high school in June—she was second in a class of over five hundred—and was scheduled to attend Brown University in the fall. Her final two choices for college were Columbia and Brown, but New York City seemed too threatening so she decided on the more benign Rhode Island.