CHANNILLO

Chapter Seven (1)
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With my shoes in hand, I crept down the stairs, hoping not to wake my dad, so he wouldn’t know I had to leave a half hour earlier to run to the rink. Wherever my bike had ended up, I had to get it back before he noticed. Best case, I could take an extra shift from Mike on the weekends and buy a new one before he realized what had happened. The last thing I needed was my dad demanding we go down to the police station and actually report what had happened. Odds were, however had taken it had either lawyers for parents (Andre) or enough money to bury us (anyone from St. Raphael’s). 

Easing the door shut behind me, I slipped on my shoes and slung my bags over either shoulder before ducking out from around the back and up along the side of the garage - where a car idled on the street....

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