Don't be afraid for me, my friend, one day we all fall down forever. (Patty Griffin)

We drove home in silence. My mother was disappointed but I think she was proud too. Imagine if she had played the parent card and told me to sit down or mind my manners. It would have killed my victory. I think she was glad that I stood up for her. She was accustomed to respect now but she was torn because she had been such a mousy little do-gooder as a child. She didn’t like having her entire life questioned, especially in that aggressive manner, but she couldn’t defy her father.

Before we got out of the car after she parked it in the garage, she hugged me.

“I love you,” I told her.

She held me a little longer but unlike when her mother had held me I didn’t start rhyming off the periodic table in my head to get through it.

I felt proud that she was my mother. I felt proud that the hated troublemaker was my father. I loved my family. I loved my life. Little did I know, my life as I knew it would be a distant memory soon enough. I slammed the door of my father’s Cadillac and walked into the mansion I called home as if it were commonplace, as if everyone lived in a mansion. I wish someone could have explained to me then that my grandparents were living a normal life and my life, as I knew it, was extraordinary.

They were waiting in the trees when the plane landed.

They swarmed the plane. They never had a chance.