I don’t know why I was so curious about it; it’s really none of my business. About ten minutes later my dad walks. “Hey son.” “Hey dad, oh ...ad have you seen Raven’s cell phone?” I ask. “Last time I seen it was on the couch, why?” He responded “Well she’s looking for it and we search the couches in & out.” I said. “It must be under the couch; have you looked?” Damn, I said to myself, Raven and I didn’t bother looking under the couch. I get on my hands and knees and start to look for it; to my. It was a photo of a good looking man in his thirties. He was tall,muscular, and square-jawed. The camera had captured him as he emergedfrom the woods, a shotgun over one shoulder.Though I had never met him, I knew that he was my father. Mother hadtold me everything about him: their whirlwind courtship, their fivehappy years of marriage, his successful career as a police officer.About how happy he was when mom told him she was pregnant with me. Abouthow he was shot to death during a routine. More

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