She let go of the blinds, but instead of sprinting for her parents, she stood still, holding her breath. After several seconds, she heard the man begin walking once again. Slowly, she reached for a blind with one finger and moved it back a tiny sliver, just enough for her to see out with one eye. She watched the man, stiff and unsteady, still dragging his right leg, head down, moving toward the entrance to Pineda Lakes. Cindy let go of the blind and tiptoed out of her room. Instead of going to her parents, she went downstairs and walked to the front door. She reached for the lock and paused, looking back over her shoulder and listening for any sign that her parents might be awake. Satisfied they were still sleeping, Cindy unlocked the door, turned the knob, and stepped out into the night.
When the old man reached the corner, he dropped to his knees, set the coin next to him, and began digging with his hands. He pawed and ripped at the dirt, flinging soil away from the spot. His breath came out in gasps, and he stopped digging after several minutes and leaned over, panting, holding himself up with his hands. Finally he placed the coin in the bottom of the hole and covered it with the same dirt he had dug. With difficulty, he managed to get to his feet. He looked down at where he had buried the coin and kicked some loose dirt and leaves over the spot, making it appear like the rest of the site.