Janice Peters, 40, was walking through the park. She had just left the office, which sat on one end of the park, and was walking to her car which was parked at the other end. It was not a long walk, but she cursed the fact that she couldn't find a closer spot. Now she had to walk all the way through the park in her new heels which, though fashionable, were not the most comfortable.
Janice was what some might consider vain. She cared greatly about her appearance, making sure her outfits were always coordinated and fashionable. Today she was wearing a black pencil skirt with a yellow sleeveless blouse and a black blazer. She looked professional, but still a bit sexy, and at 40 she had made it a priority to take care of herself. Her makeup and shoulder length auburn hair were always impeccable, and she was in great shape. She usually went to the gym after work, but today her plans had changed. Her 18 year old son would be home from college today, staying for the weekend. He was uncertain about his future, it seemed his grades had been slipping. Janice worried that she hadn't instilled the same drive in her son that she herself possessed. He was a bit of a slob, didn't care too much for his appearance. She wondered for a moment if she had been too self involved to instill those values in Ryan.
Her train of thought was suddenly broken when she nearly tripped over something. Quickly regaining her balance and composure wasn't much of a challenge even in four inch heels, as she'd worn similar shoes most days of her professional career. Quickly inspecting her Jimmy Choo's for scuff marks, she looked around for what she had tripped over. There, in the middle of the sidewalk was a bracelet, plastic and rather cheap looking. Janice bent down and picked it up. It didn't look valuable, so she slipped it onto her wrist. "Odd," she thought, "Not something I'd normally wear. Doesn't look too bad though." She paused a moment before she walked on. She felt as though somebody was watching her. She looked over to the park bench, but it was empty. Shrugging off the feeling, Janice continued to her car.
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Twenty minutes later Janice pulled into her driveway. Her husband was a lawyer, and she made decent money at the insurance firm she worked at, so they were able to get a nice house in a nice neighborhood. She opened the front door and nearly tripped again. Right in the middle of the foyer was a large laundry bag, with a few socks and boxer shorts bulging from the opening. Her son was home. "Well, I guess this weekend would be a good time to teach him some responsibilities," she said to herself. There was no way she'd be caught doing his laundry again. She walked into the living room, where she saw...