After accompanying Gramps to the airport. I kept checking the documents for anything I could find, but I kept hitting a dead end.
"What are you looking at?" Reed asked, eyes on the road.
"Just my mom's old diary, nothing much."
"Seems a little too big for a diary."
"She was a writer."
At least that was what I thought she was. I don't remember clearly, but I always saw her typing on her laptop whenever she was home. I was wrong the entire time; my little mind had no idea she was working on cases. I didn't even notice a badge or a gun.
It was times like this I wished I remembered my time with my parents more clearly. Most of it was fuzzy anyway... blurred by a part of me that wanted to forget.
This was getting me nowhere, and I wanted something useful. So I picked up her diary. I had hoped to wait until I got back to Tori's place but my nerves can't take it anymore.
"Okay, that looks like a diary," Reed commented.
"Keep your eyes on the road, will ya?"
"Yes, ma'am."
