Sandy said, helping herself to a piece of pepperoni pizza, “was the finest man in the world.” She had tears in her eyes as she laid the piece on her plate and began folding it inward. “Nobody cared the way he did. He was always on the side of the underdog.” She looked at me across the table before she raised the piece to her mouth. “You can be proud of him, Izzy. There are very few girls who ever had a father like yours.” I watched her as she chewed on the pizza, and I nodded and tried not to look anxious. I had been staying with Sandy ever since my father died over a week ago, but she still had not said what I was waiting to hear. Sandy was the first one I called when I woke up that morning and didn’t find him home. It was Saturday and the house was very quiet. My father never slept late, even on the weekends. I always heard him before I got out of bed and I usually jumped up and got dressed quickly. I never wanted him to think I was lazy. I hadn’t seen him the night before but that didn’t make me suspicious.
