Page 7 (1/1)

The h me This was the woman I'd lived with until I was seventeen, so I felt a brief sentie But she was also the woman who'd raised me to be a thief and a con artist-to pick pockets and locks, plan elaborate stings, and forge everything fros So I felt sha to care about anything else, so I felt anger as well Missing panda, indeed! I couldn't wait to see what that was about

The small house looked like all the others on this suburban street, east of Los Angeles Bea ood as the rest of them, never shabby but never too fancy, either Her intention was toin plain sight," she liked to call it The taupe and white trim matched the house next door and three others on the block I re to enter a neighbor's house instead That's how forgettable our ho today I parked and quickly walked to the house, carrying a big black plastic bag with the panda inside Whatever it was about that thing, Bea didn't want to draw any attention to it, so she insisted that I bag it once I'd clairabbed the key fro place Then I went to the back door and let myself in

Bea and I didn't part on the best of ter here I'ry when I left, which is why I hid frory with me when she called yesterday, so perhaps seven years had wiped that slate clean I hoped so, anyway

If I could return to New York without having to hide anymore, life would certainly be better All I needed to do was make peace with Bea I didn't expect to becos But since I was here, I could try to understand her better and get a new perspective on my childhood Was she really always on the lookout for a scam? Did she care about anyone but herself? I wanted to knohether these ies I had of her were true How bad was it, really? Because the scared girl who ran away froht it was incredibly bad