I gave Mom the silent treatment after I hung up, running to my room for a few extra things. By the time I returned downstairs, she was conspicuously absent. I waffled between angry and hurt while I glanced down at my suitcase, the hateful thing, and wished I had options.

It turned out I didn't have time to decide which one suited my mood the best. Just as I stuffed my favorite T-shirt into the front of the bag, a big black car pulled into the driveway. A ...