The front door flies open, and a thirteen year old girl holding a transistor radio and a copy of the Wall Street Journal races through.

"Sandy, Sandy! Guess what? The stock market jumped five points today!"

Done hollering, she looks up from the paper and skids to a halt. One of her two braids flies over her shoulder, and she looks around with wide eyes.

"What the..." Turtle trails off, certain that Baba would threaten to wash her mouth out with soap if she swore more than three times in one day. Not that Baba would know, but Turtle would feel guilty.

"This isn't the office." Turtle frowns. "Sandy, is this one of your tricks?"

Irritated that she might miss her chess lesson, Turtle looks around for something to kick.