My grandma spent $30,000 to join our family’s Europe trip. But at the airport, my dad said, ‘I forgot your ticket—just go home.’ The way everyone avoided her eyes told me it wasn’t an accident. I stayed with her. Three weeks later, my parents came back—and the whole family froze, like they were holding their breath, when they saw me standing beside a man. Because…

Still, I knew I could never fill the empty spaces left behind by my father and Aunt Paula.

Everything began to shift the spring I turned eighteen, right after I graduated from high school.

I was back in Greenville, enjoying the last sliver of freedom before college. One evening, my parents called me into the living room. The TV was off, their laptops closed, and their expressions carried a kind of rehearsed excitement.

“Calvin,” my father began, voice almost booming with enthusiasm, “we’re planning a big trip.”

He had an airline brochure next to him on the coffee table, next to a ballpoint pen and a yellow legal pad covered in lists.