Entry 12
As soon as I got home, Crowley saw me and spun around in his swivel chair.
"Hello, idjit," he said.
Busted. Drat #3. I guess bad things do come in threes sometimes.
"Dad, I-"
"Whatever floats your boat, daughter. I have worked with Singer in the past a few times. It's understandable that you would want some information. I've told you all I can."
"I'm sorry I lied to you this morning," I said.
"See, that's what worries me, when you start apologizing for being bad. Are you sure you're my daughter, Keigh?" he teased me.
"Daaad…"
"I know. Be yourself, Keigh. You're still my daughter."
"Yeah, whatever," I muttered. Crowley being nice to me? What got into him?
I left and went to my room before it could get awkward.