My family locked me in the basement to give birth. Days later, they returned to find a dark red liquid seeping from the door. As my mother screamed, a voice whispered behind her, “Looking for me?”

cleared, my father cleared his throat, a sound that always preceded an edict. “Your mother and I will be departing for Europe the day after tomorrow.”

I blinked, momentarily disoriented. “Europe?”

“Paris, followed by Rome, and concluding in Barcelona,” Eleanor stated with practiced swiftness. “It has been on the books for months.”

Samantha’s face illuminated continue reading …