Rebecca Talley
| Children's Author LDS Author Freelance Writer |
Heaven Scent
Chapter One
Liza tucked the basketball under her left arm and then formed a T with her hands.
“Time out, Aldrich Heights,” the tall, thin referee shouted as he pointed to Liza’s team.
Liza and her teammates ran off the court to meet their coach by the bench. Liza caught a glimpse
of her mom and brother in the bleachers. Where was her dad? She’d begged him to come to her game
and he’d said he would. Why wasn’t he there?
Coach Anderson tapped her on the shoulder. “Liza, pay attention. This is it. We have possession.
We need to run the clock down. Leave only enough time to take one last shot. We can win this game.”
The girls nodded.
Liza glanced at the doorway and then back to the bleachers, but she couldn’t see her dad. Her
stomach tightened.
Coach Anderson turned to Tamika. “I want you to throw the ball in to Liza.”
“Okay,” Tamika said.
Liza clenched her jaw. How could her dad miss this game?
“Liza, you take the last shot.”
“Huh?”
“Focus, Liza. We’re all depending on you. Can you handle it?”
Liza blinked her eyes. “Yeah.”
“Are you sure?” Coach Anderson asked.
Liza turned to her coach. “Yes.” She wiped the sweat from her face.
The buzzer sounded the end of time out. Liza’s team returned to the court.
“With ten seconds left on the clock, Aldrich Heights High has the chance to score and win this
championship game,” the announcer boomed.
The referee handed the ball to Tamika and the sound of his whistle bounced off the walls of the
immense gymnasium. Tamika threw a sharp pass to Liza. Liza glanced at the court clock. Ten. Nine.
Eight. It was now or never. Driving toward the basket was her only choice. Her team trailed
Roosevelt High by only one point and she couldn’t afford to waver, not even for a second. It was up
to her. She had to win this game.
She dribbled past center court.
“Time is ticking,” came the announcer’s voice.
Seven. Six. Liza narrowed her eyes. Several girls stood between her and the basket, but no one
would stand in the way of her goal. Five. Four. She inhaled deeply, darted toward the key, and took
her best jump shot.
Whack. She felt a stinging sensation as rough hands slapped her hand and arm. The shrill sound
of the referee’s whistle ripped through the air as she watched the ball bounce out of bounds.
“Foul on number two-one. Number fourteen, you’re at the free throw line,” the ref shouted above
the jeering crowd. He handed the ball to Liza.
The announcer’s voice cracked as he said, “Liza Compton’s been fouled. Time has run out. This
free throw will determine whether or not Aldrich High is still in the race for the California State Girls’
Basketball Championship.”
His words echoed in her ears. The beads of sweat pooled and trickled down her forehead. She
licked her lips. This was the moment. Missing was not an option. She blew through her mouth, ran
her fingers through her wet bangs, and cleared her mind.
The crowd for the opposing team whistled and hollered. Someone screamed, “You’ll never make
this shot.”
Somebody else yelled, “You’ll miss!”
Her heart pounded. Carefully, methodically, she took aim. She locked her sight on the goal. She
bent her knees, jumped up, and followed through with a flawless arc of her right hand.
A hushed silence fell over the crowd as the ball neared the basket, hit the rim, and bounced
straight up. Liza bit her lower lip, her gaze fixed. In slow motion, the ball descended and finally
swooshed through the net. She exhaled and let her head fall forward.
The home crowd exploded in applause and cheers. The score was tied.
The announcer cleared his throat and said, “If she makes this next basket, Aldrich Heights High
School will have its first ever championship in girls’ basketball.”
The fans cheered. The referee again handed the ball to Liza. She bounced the ball three times and
listened to its echo as it mimicked her own heartbeat. Basketball was the one thing in her life that she
controlled, the one thing she understood, her constant.
While everything and everyone else changed, basketball remained the same.
Liza’s head felt as if it were going to explode. This one free throw meant the difference between
euphoric victory and endless regret.
In a low voice the announcer said, “This is the most important shot of Liza Compton’s basketball
career.”
Liza held the smooth, round ball in her hands. For a brief moment, her concentration slipped while
she searched the stands, hoping her dad would finally be there. Row after row she scoured the
spectators. She glanced over at the double doors. Her gaze met
her mother’s. Her mom gave a faint smile and shook her head. Liza knew exactly what that meant.
How could he? Again.
She gritted her teeth and forced herself to focus only on the task ahead of her. She stared at the
goal. This was the basket everyone would remember. She’d scored twenty-nine points for her team, a
personal best, but none of that mattered. It didn’t even matter that she’d just made the free throw to
tie the score. She had to make this basket. Her future depended on it.
She took her stance and let the ball go. It arched perfectly in the air. She watched and exerted all
of her mental effort in willing the ball to the basket. She cracked her knuckles.
Once again, the ball hit the rim. It circled and circled and then circled some more. Around and
around and around. She reached down to wipe her moist hands on her shiny red shorts.
After what seemed like an eternity, the ball fell into the basket.
The home crowd burst into celebration. Old and young alike jumped to their feet and cheered. The
audience was awash in varying shades of red and blue. Liza leapt into the air and screamed. Relief,
joy, and excitement washed over her while her teammates rushed her like a mindless mob, practically
knocking her to the ground.
“You are part of history tonight. Aldrich Heights has won the state championship!” the announcer
yelled over the noise of the crowd.
“Way to go, Liza!” Megan screamed, her long red braids bouncing from side to side.
“We did it!” Liza exclaimed. She picked up Megan and spun her around.
“We’re number one!” Tamika sang out in her high-pitched voice.
Sara danced around Liza with her finger held high in the air.
Liza raised her arms and waved them wildly.
The trombones, horns, drums, flutes, even the tuba, broke into the school song. Cymbals
punctuated the chorus. Many students joined hands or linked arms and swayed back and forth to the
beat of the band.
Cheerleaders, in their short white skirts and bright red and blue tops, jumped into the air and
clapped their hands under one leg and then the other. The mascot, a white tiger dressed in a red vest
with tails, ran across the expansive gym floor doing back
flips, front flips, and cartwheels. Others in the crowd chanted. Liza soaked it all in. She wanted to
savor every glorious moment and lock each second into her memory.
She watched the disappointment on the faces of her opposing team. She felt sorry for them
because she knew how important it was to win this game. Despite her empathy, she grinned so wide
it hurt her face.
The losing team, in their green and yellow uniforms, banded together and gave a forced yell of
congratulations.
A floating red-and-blue Frisbee caught Liza’s gaze. She looked upward toward the soft glow of
the fluorescent lighting and then at the towering mass of grandstands spread across the light, highly
polished wood floor. She stared at the black scoreboard
with the flashing red lights signaling the final score of fifty-seven to fifty-six. She closed her eyes and
drew a deep breath through her nose to memorize even the smell of the multitude that shared her
victory.
While she absorbed every drop of the unfamiliar gymnasium, she hoped she would make this gym
her home court and play basketball for Oak University next year. Oak’s strict entrance requirements
and prestigious girls’ basketball program seemed out of reach to Liza, but, for a moment frozen in
time, she could immerse herself in all the sights, smells, and sounds of this gym, this night.
“Liza, what’re you doing?” Sara asked. She grabbed Liza’s long dark ponytail and pulled her
down a few inches.
“Oh, sorry, Sara, I was . . . taking it all in, I guess,” Liza said, rising to her full five-foot, ten-inch
height.
“Can you believe this?” Sara exclaimed. She smiled and exposed her braces.
“Not really.” Liza shook her head.
“This has never happened before. We’ll be famous!” Sara giggled, jumping up and down.
Liza joined her.
Coach Anderson’s sparsely covered head towered above the throng as he made his way through
to Liza. He embraced her. “Definitely your best game. You didn’t crack under pressure. Great job.”
He flashed his friendly smile.
“Thanks.”
“Can we have all of the team members join us over here for the presentation of the trophy?” a
female voice announced over the sound system. Liza recognized the stout woman as the district
superintendent.
The team stood in a semicircle around a man in his mid-fifties who held the award. Sara elbowed
Liza and said, “Is this awesome or what? Did you get a look at that enormous trophy?”
“I’m still in shock,” Liza said while trying to smile for the cameras.
Sara whispered, “I knew you could do it. Ever since I met you at the beginning of the year, I
knew you’d be the star of the team. We could never have won this championship without you.”
“I don’t know about that.”
The older man spoke into the microphone, “Coach Anderson, it’s my privilege to award you this
trophy in recognition of winning the California State Girls’ Basketball Championship. Your team played
well. Congratulations.”
The crowd went wild. Liza’s smile widened. She’d never known such a sense of
accomplishment, and she wanted to bask in it as long as possible.
Coach Anderson stepped over to the gentleman and took the trophy in his hands. He stared it at
for a moment and then raised it above his head. The crowd erupted again.
After a few moments, Coach Anderson held his hands up to quiet the group. “Thank you so much
for your support throughout this season. And thank you to my championship team. I’m so proud of
each of you. You worked together better tonight than
I’ve ever seen you. You all deserve congratulations. Let’s meet over at Pizza Palace and celebrate in
style.” He held the trophy with one hand, high above his head, and pumped it several times.
The girls shouted their agreement. Camera flashes illuminated the gym while the school band
played in the background. A loud hum of congratulations hung over the crowd.
Liza’s mom and Jason finally broke through the swarm that surrounded Liza. “Oh, honey, you
were so, oh . . .” A tear streamed down her mother’s cheek. She reached for Liza’s hand.
“Thanks, Mom.” Her own eyes filled with tears.
“You were pretty awesome tonight,” Jason said. He smiled and slugged her in the arm.
Liza punched him back.
Her mom stepped closer. “You did so well. I worried about that last free throw, but I knew, deep
down, you’d pull it off. I’m so proud of you.” She hugged her and whispered “I love you” in her ear.
Though she was ecstatic about winning, the stark reality of her father’s absence hit her hard. Liza
pulled away. “Where’s Dad? He promised to be here.”
Her mother smiled and pushed a lock of her own auburn hair behind her left ear. She removed her
glasses and said, “I know he meant to—”
Liza cut in, “C’mon, Mom. He promised. The absolute most important game of my life. He
promised he wouldn’t let work get in the way. I told him so many times how much I wanted him to
be here tonight.”
“Liza, please, don’t get upset. Not now. Be happy about your game. We’ll discuss this later.”
Liza’s throat tightened. She wanted to scream at her mother, who maintained a pleasant, if not
emotionless, expression—a talent her mother had seemed to perfect since moving to Aldrich Heights.
Liza covered her face with her hands and tried to control the rage and utter frustration that
churned inside of her.
Liza’s mom, who stood slightly shorter than Liza but quite a bit heavier, grabbed Liza by the
shoulders and said, “Liza? Look at me. I want to see your beautiful blue eyes.”
Liza continued to bury her face in her hands.
Her mother became more insistent and the tone of her voice changed. “Liza, I mean it. We’ll talk
about this later.”
Liza removed her hands from her face. She watched her mother’s practiced smile and even
noticed a few wrinkles around her mother’s eyes.
Jason broke in, “Don’t let him wreck your night.”
Liza inhaled deeply and blew the air out slowly through her mouth. She smoothed her hair and
used her fingers to comb through her bangs. She wiped at her cheeks and licked her lips.
She turned back to her teammates and, with a smile, said, “Pizza Palace, here come the champs.” She
darted toward the lockers with her team falling in line behind her.
Inside the large locker room, Liza sat on the cold wooden bench and stared at the ground. She
wanted to be left alone to stew in her anger.
“What are you doing? We need to get over to Pizza Palace,” Sara said.
Liza shook her head. “Huh?”
“Come on. Get with it.” Sara pushed Liza’s shoulder.
Liza wanted to smack Sara for bugging her. Sara always intruded in her space and asked
annoying questions that were none of her business. She wished Sara would disappear so she could
sort out her thoughts. “Give me a minute.”
“If you don’t hurry, I’m going to get everyone to come back in here and get you,” Sara said as
she ran off.
Liza rolled her eyes. She recounted her dad’s promise to attend her game. Why did she believe
him? Why did she continue to think he meant what he said? He’d let her down time and time again
over the last year or so. But this was too important. This was her championship game.
Liza stood and hit the locker with the palms of her hands. She’d practiced all these years for this
very moment, and he missed it. If he’d just for one minute put their family ahead of his career, he’d
feel differently. He’d act differently. Their family would be important to him again. She’d be important
to him again. But it didn’t matter because he’d made the same choice. Again.
Now it was time to do something, instead of overlooking it as her mother always seemed to do.
She needed to take action and make him realize what he was doing to their family.
Everyone expected her at Pizza Palace, and she deserved to celebrate, but she wanted to yell at
her dad for, once again, sacrificing her for his job.
She pulled out her cell phone and was just punching in his number when Sara rushed inside with
several of their teammates close behind her.
“We’ve come to get you, like I said.” Sara pulled at Liza’s arm.
Chapter One
Liza tucked the basketball under her left arm and then formed a T with her hands.
“Time out, Aldrich Heights,” the tall, thin referee shouted as he pointed to Liza’s team.
Liza and her teammates ran off the court to meet their coach by the bench. Liza caught a glimpse
of her mom and brother in the bleachers. Where was her dad? She’d begged him to come to her game
and he’d said he would. Why wasn’t he there?
Coach Anderson tapped her on the shoulder. “Liza, pay attention. This is it. We have possession.
We need to run the clock down. Leave only enough time to take one last shot. We can win this game.”
The girls nodded.
Liza glanced at the doorway and then back to the bleachers, but she couldn’t see her dad. Her
stomach tightened.
Coach Anderson turned to Tamika. “I want you to throw the ball in to Liza.”
“Okay,” Tamika said.
Liza clenched her jaw. How could her dad miss this game?
“Liza, you take the last shot.”
“Huh?”
“Focus, Liza. We’re all depending on you. Can you handle it?”
Liza blinked her eyes. “Yeah.”
“Are you sure?” Coach Anderson asked.
Liza turned to her coach. “Yes.” She wiped the sweat from her face.
The buzzer sounded the end of time out. Liza’s team returned to the court.
“With ten seconds left on the clock, Aldrich Heights High has the chance to score and win this
championship game,” the announcer boomed.
The referee handed the ball to Tamika and the sound of his whistle bounced off the walls of the
immense gymnasium. Tamika threw a sharp pass to Liza. Liza glanced at the court clock. Ten. Nine.
Eight. It was now or never. Driving toward the basket was her only choice. Her team trailed
Roosevelt High by only one point and she couldn’t afford to waver, not even for a second. It was up
to her. She had to win this game.
She dribbled past center court.
“Time is ticking,” came the announcer’s voice.
Seven. Six. Liza narrowed her eyes. Several girls stood between her and the basket, but no one
would stand in the way of her goal. Five. Four. She inhaled deeply, darted toward the key, and took
her best jump shot.
Whack. She felt a stinging sensation as rough hands slapped her hand and arm. The shrill sound
of the referee’s whistle ripped through the air as she watched the ball bounce out of bounds.
“Foul on number two-one. Number fourteen, you’re at the free throw line,” the ref shouted above
the jeering crowd. He handed the ball to Liza.
The announcer’s voice cracked as he said, “Liza Compton’s been fouled. Time has run out. This
free throw will determine whether or not Aldrich High is still in the race for the California State Girls’
Basketball Championship.”
His words echoed in her ears. The beads of sweat pooled and trickled down her forehead. She
licked her lips. This was the moment. Missing was not an option. She blew through her mouth, ran
her fingers through her wet bangs, and cleared her mind.
The crowd for the opposing team whistled and hollered. Someone screamed, “You’ll never make
this shot.”
Somebody else yelled, “You’ll miss!”
Her heart pounded. Carefully, methodically, she took aim. She locked her sight on the goal. She
bent her knees, jumped up, and followed through with a flawless arc of her right hand.
A hushed silence fell over the crowd as the ball neared the basket, hit the rim, and bounced
straight up. Liza bit her lower lip, her gaze fixed. In slow motion, the ball descended and finally
swooshed through the net. She exhaled and let her head fall forward.
The home crowd exploded in applause and cheers. The score was tied.
The announcer cleared his throat and said, “If she makes this next basket, Aldrich Heights High
School will have its first ever championship in girls’ basketball.”
The fans cheered. The referee again handed the ball to Liza. She bounced the ball three times and
listened to its echo as it mimicked her own heartbeat. Basketball was the one thing in her life that she
controlled, the one thing she understood, her constant.
While everything and everyone else changed, basketball remained the same.
Liza’s head felt as if it were going to explode. This one free throw meant the difference between
euphoric victory and endless regret.
In a low voice the announcer said, “This is the most important shot of Liza Compton’s basketball
career.”
Liza held the smooth, round ball in her hands. For a brief moment, her concentration slipped while
she searched the stands, hoping her dad would finally be there. Row after row she scoured the
spectators. She glanced over at the double doors. Her gaze met
her mother’s. Her mom gave a faint smile and shook her head. Liza knew exactly what that meant.
How could he? Again.
She gritted her teeth and forced herself to focus only on the task ahead of her. She stared at the
goal. This was the basket everyone would remember. She’d scored twenty-nine points for her team, a
personal best, but none of that mattered. It didn’t even matter that she’d just made the free throw to
tie the score. She had to make this basket. Her future depended on it.
She took her stance and let the ball go. It arched perfectly in the air. She watched and exerted all
of her mental effort in willing the ball to the basket. She cracked her knuckles.
Once again, the ball hit the rim. It circled and circled and then circled some more. Around and
around and around. She reached down to wipe her moist hands on her shiny red shorts.
After what seemed like an eternity, the ball fell into the basket.
The home crowd burst into celebration. Old and young alike jumped to their feet and cheered. The
audience was awash in varying shades of red and blue. Liza leapt into the air and screamed. Relief,
joy, and excitement washed over her while her teammates rushed her like a mindless mob, practically
knocking her to the ground.
“You are part of history tonight. Aldrich Heights has won the state championship!” the announcer
yelled over the noise of the crowd.
“Way to go, Liza!” Megan screamed, her long red braids bouncing from side to side.
“We did it!” Liza exclaimed. She picked up Megan and spun her around.
“We’re number one!” Tamika sang out in her high-pitched voice.
Sara danced around Liza with her finger held high in the air.
Liza raised her arms and waved them wildly.
The trombones, horns, drums, flutes, even the tuba, broke into the school song. Cymbals
punctuated the chorus. Many students joined hands or linked arms and swayed back and forth to the
beat of the band.
Cheerleaders, in their short white skirts and bright red and blue tops, jumped into the air and
clapped their hands under one leg and then the other. The mascot, a white tiger dressed in a red vest
with tails, ran across the expansive gym floor doing back
flips, front flips, and cartwheels. Others in the crowd chanted. Liza soaked it all in. She wanted to
savor every glorious moment and lock each second into her memory.
She watched the disappointment on the faces of her opposing team. She felt sorry for them
because she knew how important it was to win this game. Despite her empathy, she grinned so wide
it hurt her face.
The losing team, in their green and yellow uniforms, banded together and gave a forced yell of
congratulations.
A floating red-and-blue Frisbee caught Liza’s gaze. She looked upward toward the soft glow of
the fluorescent lighting and then at the towering mass of grandstands spread across the light, highly
polished wood floor. She stared at the black scoreboard
with the flashing red lights signaling the final score of fifty-seven to fifty-six. She closed her eyes and
drew a deep breath through her nose to memorize even the smell of the multitude that shared her
victory.
While she absorbed every drop of the unfamiliar gymnasium, she hoped she would make this gym
her home court and play basketball for Oak University next year. Oak’s strict entrance requirements
and prestigious girls’ basketball program seemed out of reach to Liza, but, for a moment frozen in
time, she could immerse herself in all the sights, smells, and sounds of this gym, this night.
“Liza, what’re you doing?” Sara asked. She grabbed Liza’s long dark ponytail and pulled her
down a few inches.
“Oh, sorry, Sara, I was . . . taking it all in, I guess,” Liza said, rising to her full five-foot, ten-inch
height.
“Can you believe this?” Sara exclaimed. She smiled and exposed her braces.
“Not really.” Liza shook her head.
“This has never happened before. We’ll be famous!” Sara giggled, jumping up and down.
Liza joined her.
Coach Anderson’s sparsely covered head towered above the throng as he made his way through
to Liza. He embraced her. “Definitely your best game. You didn’t crack under pressure. Great job.”
He flashed his friendly smile.
“Thanks.”
“Can we have all of the team members join us over here for the presentation of the trophy?” a
female voice announced over the sound system. Liza recognized the stout woman as the district
superintendent.
The team stood in a semicircle around a man in his mid-fifties who held the award. Sara elbowed
Liza and said, “Is this awesome or what? Did you get a look at that enormous trophy?”
“I’m still in shock,” Liza said while trying to smile for the cameras.
Sara whispered, “I knew you could do it. Ever since I met you at the beginning of the year, I
knew you’d be the star of the team. We could never have won this championship without you.”
“I don’t know about that.”
The older man spoke into the microphone, “Coach Anderson, it’s my privilege to award you this
trophy in recognition of winning the California State Girls’ Basketball Championship. Your team played
well. Congratulations.”
The crowd went wild. Liza’s smile widened. She’d never known such a sense of
accomplishment, and she wanted to bask in it as long as possible.
Coach Anderson stepped over to the gentleman and took the trophy in his hands. He stared it at
for a moment and then raised it above his head. The crowd erupted again.
After a few moments, Coach Anderson held his hands up to quiet the group. “Thank you so much
for your support throughout this season. And thank you to my championship team. I’m so proud of
each of you. You worked together better tonight than
I’ve ever seen you. You all deserve congratulations. Let’s meet over at Pizza Palace and celebrate in
style.” He held the trophy with one hand, high above his head, and pumped it several times.
The girls shouted their agreement. Camera flashes illuminated the gym while the school band
played in the background. A loud hum of congratulations hung over the crowd.
Liza’s mom and Jason finally broke through the swarm that surrounded Liza. “Oh, honey, you
were so, oh . . .” A tear streamed down her mother’s cheek. She reached for Liza’s hand.
“Thanks, Mom.” Her own eyes filled with tears.
“You were pretty awesome tonight,” Jason said. He smiled and slugged her in the arm.
Liza punched him back.
Her mom stepped closer. “You did so well. I worried about that last free throw, but I knew, deep
down, you’d pull it off. I’m so proud of you.” She hugged her and whispered “I love you” in her ear.
Though she was ecstatic about winning, the stark reality of her father’s absence hit her hard. Liza
pulled away. “Where’s Dad? He promised to be here.”
Her mother smiled and pushed a lock of her own auburn hair behind her left ear. She removed her
glasses and said, “I know he meant to—”
Liza cut in, “C’mon, Mom. He promised. The absolute most important game of my life. He
promised he wouldn’t let work get in the way. I told him so many times how much I wanted him to
be here tonight.”
“Liza, please, don’t get upset. Not now. Be happy about your game. We’ll discuss this later.”
Liza’s throat tightened. She wanted to scream at her mother, who maintained a pleasant, if not
emotionless, expression—a talent her mother had seemed to perfect since moving to Aldrich Heights.
Liza covered her face with her hands and tried to control the rage and utter frustration that
churned inside of her.
Liza’s mom, who stood slightly shorter than Liza but quite a bit heavier, grabbed Liza by the
shoulders and said, “Liza? Look at me. I want to see your beautiful blue eyes.”
Liza continued to bury her face in her hands.
Her mother became more insistent and the tone of her voice changed. “Liza, I mean it. We’ll talk
about this later.”
Liza removed her hands from her face. She watched her mother’s practiced smile and even
noticed a few wrinkles around her mother’s eyes.
Jason broke in, “Don’t let him wreck your night.”
Liza inhaled deeply and blew the air out slowly through her mouth. She smoothed her hair and
used her fingers to comb through her bangs. She wiped at her cheeks and licked her lips.
She turned back to her teammates and, with a smile, said, “Pizza Palace, here come the champs.” She
darted toward the lockers with her team falling in line behind her.
Inside the large locker room, Liza sat on the cold wooden bench and stared at the ground. She
wanted to be left alone to stew in her anger.
“What are you doing? We need to get over to Pizza Palace,” Sara said.
Liza shook her head. “Huh?”
“Come on. Get with it.” Sara pushed Liza’s shoulder.
Liza wanted to smack Sara for bugging her. Sara always intruded in her space and asked
annoying questions that were none of her business. She wished Sara would disappear so she could
sort out her thoughts. “Give me a minute.”
“If you don’t hurry, I’m going to get everyone to come back in here and get you,” Sara said as
she ran off.
Liza rolled her eyes. She recounted her dad’s promise to attend her game. Why did she believe
him? Why did she continue to think he meant what he said? He’d let her down time and time again
over the last year or so. But this was too important. This was her championship game.
Liza stood and hit the locker with the palms of her hands. She’d practiced all these years for this
very moment, and he missed it. If he’d just for one minute put their family ahead of his career, he’d
feel differently. He’d act differently. Their family would be important to him again. She’d be important
to him again. But it didn’t matter because he’d made the same choice. Again.
Now it was time to do something, instead of overlooking it as her mother always seemed to do.
She needed to take action and make him realize what he was doing to their family.
Everyone expected her at Pizza Palace, and she deserved to celebrate, but she wanted to yell at
her dad for, once again, sacrificing her for his job.
She pulled out her cell phone and was just punching in his number when Sara rushed inside with
several of their teammates close behind her.
“We’ve come to get you, like I said.” Sara pulled at Liza’s arm.
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