I woke to Dad shaking me awake.
"Sadie. Get up and put your clothes on. We're going somewhere," he whispered softly.
I struggled to get out of bed. The room was cold, and I rubbed my arms for warmth. I slipped on my Mudd sweatpants and a green t-shirt and ran downstairs. The house was silent for the most part -- the only audible sound was Dad opening and closing the front door. Hastily, I grabbed a granola bar from the pantry. Why was I up at 6:30 a.m.? I slipped on my boots and followed Dad outside.
It was a chilly morning, and once again I questioned what I was doing. I hadn't been awake enough to think to bring a jacket. We walked silently for a few minutes. Finally, Dad broke the silence. "We need to talk."
"What about?" I asked, surprised at how harsh my voice sounded.
He shook his head. I had hoped it would be something else, but the look in his eyes told me that it was. He opened his mouth, then closed it. "I don't know where to start," he said.
"You don't have to," I replied. We looked into each others eyes for a minute, but I knew that he knew what I meant.