As Angie hustled through the small, cozy and comfortably over grown yard, with the grass she needed to cut this weekend, and the daisies just beginning to take over the ground at the rosebushes’ roots, her phone continued to ring.

The hour was late, which meant, darn it, it wouldn’t be Ed McMahon saying she’d won the Publisher’s Clearing House Sweep stakes.

“What are you doing up this late?” her mother demanded when Angie finally answered just as her machine picked up.

Given the heavy breathing accompanying her mother’s voice, her father was on the extension as well. “How do you know I’m still up?” Angie asked, her good mood holding. For the moment. “Maybe you woke me.”

“Oh!” Her mother sounded horrified and apologetic. “Did I?”

“No.” Angie smiled because she was still so thrilled with how her night had gone. She should have done this long ago, so very long ago. Why hadn’t she? Why had it taken a near tragedy? Didn’t matter, she decided. And though she knew her parents would misunderstand, she had to tell them. “Mom. Dad.” She took a deep breath. “I took my first college course tonight.”

“Oh my God!” Her mother squealed with shock and delight. “You’re going to be a doctor after all! My daughter, the doctor.”

“No, Mom-”

“This is wonderful! Why didn’t you tell us you’d enrolled in medical school?”

Some of Angie’s glow started to recede. “Mom, you have to get a bachelor’s degree before you can go to medical school.”

“So you’ll get a bachelor’s degree. How long will it take?”

“But I never wanted to be a doctor. I want-”

“Sure you did. When you were a little girl, you used to love to carry that little toy medical kit around and fix up all your stuffed animals.”

A headache started between Angie’s eyes as her newfound determination warred with her age-old need to please them.

“And then all through high school we talked about you getting scholarships-”

“I never had the grades for that, Mom. And we both know, being a doctor was never for me. It was for you.”

Utter silence. Even her father didn’t have a comment. At first.

“I’m sorry to speak so bluntly,” she said. “You’ve never wanted to hear this. You probably don’t want to hear it now, but…well, things have changed for me.”

“Because of the holdup.” Her mother’s voice softened. “You’re still in shock, you-”

“I’m not in shock. But I did get a wake-up call. I mean I could have d-”

“Don’t say it,” her mother interrupted fiercely.

“But it’s the truth. I could have died, without ever really having lived my life. I don’t want that to happen, Mom. Can’t you try to understand that? I want to go after some thing from my own heart.”

“I thought Tony was your heart. What a wonderful man. And a lawyer! You could try to get him back.”

They knew nothing of what had split the two of them up, and yet they assumed Tony had left her. Not a surprise, Angie supposed, but just once she would have liked the benefit of the doubt.

Tony had been a prime example of bad judgment. A serious lapse. He was everything her parents had ever wanted in a son-in-law. Educated, smart, independently wealthy.

And he’d never ever really known Angie, or even tried to. The pressure had been similar to what her parents had put on her to be someone she wasn’t, and she’d nearly suffocated. To combat it, she’d done nothing with herself. She’d stagnated. “Tony wasn’t the one for me.”

“You say that because he left. But how could a perfect man not be the one?”

“Tony and I wouldn’t have made a happy couple. Being a doctor wouldn’t have made me happy either. But,” she said quickly before she could get interrupted again, “college does.”

“Oh.” Her mother sighed. “Well, it’s a nice start. Frank, maybe you can talk to her about a medical degree-”

“No. Look, I’m nearly twenty-six years old.” Angie talked as she flipped through her mail. “I’m going to do this my way, okay?” She realized that the “okay” part of the sentence left room for debate. “I’ll let you know how it goes,” she said more firmly.

Then she saw the package that had come for her, and she smiled again. “I have to go. Got the early shift in the morning.”

“After college, you’ll be able to get a real job.”

Her mother never gave up. “I gotta go. Love you, bye.” Then she hung up quickly so she couldn’t hear any more disappointment or doubt. She didn’t need that right now, the extra tug on her emotions that might cause her to give up.

No more giving up. Ever.

With that in mind, she tore into the package she’d been waiting for. She’d ordered it after the holdup, when she’d realized her life had nearly been extinguished before she’d ever even lived it, when she’d realized there was more out there for her than waking up and going to sleep.

When she’d realized Sam made her heart quiver.

Of course that was also before she’d realized he was not so different from the others in her world. Condescending. Unaccepting.

But she was human. And as a very human female, she did know, no matter what he thought, that she could help him with his case. She had seen his witness and she knew she’d see him again.

Pulling the fingerprinting kit free of its wrapping, she reached for the directions and began to read.

It was three days before Angie saw the suspect again. Three days in which she was aware of every hour, every moment. She absorbed another class. She took a long walk every morning and concentrated on the beauty around her. She read voraciously.

She lived. And as a result, she felt unbelievably…alive.

Yet she still avoided the bank. Strong as she told herself she was, she wasn’t quite that strong. But by the end of the coming week, she knew she’d have to get over that particular fear, as she’d simply have to get money into her account.

A worry for Friday, she told herself. Besides, maybe her newly ordered ATM card would come.

She went to work thinking that this very moment was the first day of the rest of her life. From now on, every day was the first day of the rest of her life.

It felt good. It put a little bounce in her step as she went up the steps to the café. Reaching for the door, she glanced over her shoulder and noticed a car pulling into the alley.

Many cars went down the alley every day: for deliveries, for workers going in and out the back of their buildings, for people looking for a shortcut through traffic, so why she noticed this non de script color and model, she didn’t know.

But things were different these days. She paid attention to everything. She’d even put on mascara and lip gloss this morning. The woman in the reflection of her mirror had looked…happy.

Oh, yes, she was proud of herself, and liked it. She hadn’t even had a single night mare last night, not about bank drawers or knives or threats…not a one.

Then some thing warm slithered around her calf and she leaped into the air.

“Meow.”

“Saber.” Josephine’s cat. Angie let out a gasping laugh and put a hand to her racing heart before she hunkered down to pet the twenty-two-pound tabby. The cat sprawled shamelessly on her back, a loud purr rumbling. “No scraps yet this morning,” Angie said, amused. “Though by the looks of you, you don’t need any.” She came to her feet.

Now there were two men standing by the car in the alley. The first man, dressed casually in jeans and a T-shirt, moved out of sight, but before he did, Angie jerked with recognition.

Sam’s suspect.

The other, a tall and elegantly dressed man, didn’t walk away. He was on a cell phone.

“I’ll be there in half an hour. I’ve just got a quick errand,” Angie over heard him say. Then he pocketed the phone and walked in the opposite direction without a backward glance.

Angie stood there, staring at the car, feeling the weight of her fingerprinting kit in her purse. Her cell phone was there, too.

Options raced through her head. Call Sam, of course. Which would, no doubt, end in her humiliating herself once more.

She could call the police anonymously. Leave a tip. She’d seen enough American’s Most Wanted to know they wanted any and all leads, even if she turned out to be wrong. No one there would look at her as if she needed to have her head examined.

Last option-she could do nothing.

But that wasn’t in her nature. At least not anymore. With a sigh, she thought of Sam again. She could already see his frustration. But this wasn’t about Sam. No, it was about her. And proving herself.

Being held up in that bank, being saved by him…it had all definitely been one of the most terrifying yet oddly thrilling experiences of her life, which really, when she thought about it, was a sad statement on her existence to date.

But no more. She had strength and courage and a great future.

Calling Sam was the right thing to do, no matter that he would give her the look that told her he was torn between irritation and honor, between wanting to wring her neck for bothering him, and needing to make sure she really was a loon before ignoring her.

The woman who cried wolf. That’s who he thought she was. A thrill seeker. A hanger-on.

She was none of those things, and she wanted him to know it. She’d take his suspect’s prints with her new kit, and then she’d call him. She’d give him the prints. She’d take charge.

Yep, first day of the rest of her life. She moved toward the car. Not being completely stupid, she glanced up and down the alley first, but there was no one in sight. Surely she had enough time to get a print, then get out of the way and make the call.

She set her tools down on the ground, knelt by the door handle and concentrated on the directions she’d memorized. It wasn’t as easy under pressure, and she messed up her first try. But before she could try again, she heard a noise and rushed to her feet. As she did, she reached into her pocket for her cell phone, and-