Page 53 of The Good Girl's Guide to Being Bad

And with that, the three of us went inside, and I learned how to make my very first batch of pancakes. They turned out well—not as good as my dad’s, but not too shabby. When Mom woke up, she even ate a couple. Kyle and I were in a Channing-induced coma of love while Colton scoffed and grumbled under his breath. We’d watchedStep Up,Step Up 2: The Streetsand were currently watching the opening credits forMagic Mikewhen the doorbell rang for the third time today. I figured it was the postman dropping off a package for Mom until she called my name.Must be for me, I thought.

Turned out it was for me.

But it wasn’t a package.

The first thing I noticed was the police officer’s uniform and how Mom stood so stiffly beside the door. The second thing was the cruiser parked at the curb.

“What’s up, Mom?” I asked, coming to stand next to her.

“This officer’s here to see you, baby,” she said.

Her voice sounded strained, and I could completely understand why. When the cops came to your house, asking for your child, it was never a good thing. At least, it was never good in the movies or on TV. I had no real-life experience. Until now.

“Me?” I asked. “Why would he want to see me?”

“Are you Sadie Day?” the officer asked, and I realized it was the same man who had pulled me and Colton over that time for the lights.

“Yes, sir,” I said. “And I remember you. Officer Hilliard, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Nice to see you again,” I said without thinking. “Just so you know, I haven’t forgotten to turn on my lights at night. Not once.”

“Good to hear, Miss Day. Good to hear,” he said then got to the real reason for his visit. “I’m here because I received a call from a Stanley Wexler about someone TPing his front yard last night. Would you happen to know anything about that?”

“Yes,” I said. “I was there.”

Kyle came over at that point and stood behind me.

“What’s going on? Everything alright?” Kyle asked.

Officer Hilliard squinted, examining Kyle closely. “Colton Bishop, is that you? Good Lord, I should’ve known you’d be involved in this.”

Colton walked over then, standing on my other side.

“Nope, that’s my brother, Kyle,” Colton said, and despite the circumstances, he seemed relaxed. “How’s it hanging, Hilliard? Are you keeping criminals and truants off the streets?”

“You have a twin,” Officer Hilliard muttered, shaking his head, looking from Colton to Kyle and back again. “Damn, the resemblance is uncanny.”

“It really is,” my mom said. “I’ve known them since they were little kids and still have trouble telling the two apart.”

“Don’t feel bad, Mrs. Day,” Kyle patted her shoulder. “Even our mom has that problem sometimes.”

“Yeah, only seven days out of the week,” Colton mumbled then lifted his chin toward the officer. “What brings you here anyway, Hilliard?”

“Somebody TP’d Wexler’s house again last night. Know anything about that, Colton?”

“I might,” he said. “Or I might not. That still doesn’t answer why you’re here. Sounds like you don’t know who did it.”

“Oh, I know who did it,” Officer Hilliard said.

“How? Did someone see something?”

Officer Hilliard shook his head, a smile playing on his lips. “Nope. Miss Day, here, left a note.”

“A what?”

Colton’s eyes widened as Officer Hilliard flashed us the note I’d left in the principal’s mailbox last night.

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