..” I eyed her name tag, “ ... Molly! We’d like to speak to Mr. Winthrop, please. It’s about the ghost.”The girl hissed, glancing over at an...older couple sitting on a couch in the corner. “Quiet! Don’t let any of the other customers hear you.”I looked at her. “But it was in the paper.”She rolled her eyes. “Nobody reads the newspaper anymore.”“Fair enough.”Soon we were ushered into Mr. Winthrop’s plush office. The older man was handsome, what some would call a silver fox, and he looked worried. "And just like that, the call ended and the screen went black. I couldunderstand her not wanting my father to know yet. I didn't even want himto know yet. The impulse to call my brother flashed through me like abolt of lightning, there and then gone."How's about the two of you help me whip up some dinner for when yourfather gets home?" Cynthia, mom, said. She rose from the table andreached into a cupboard and produced a large skillet.Though awkward at first, I think having us help her with. More

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