Cecilia

It wasn’t Grandfather’s large plane that was waiting at the private airport but one of the corporate planes. Gaston pulled our car through the gates. My father was unusually rattled, and conversely, I was eerily calm. It wasn’t how I truly felt. Inside, my stomach was twisting, and my nerves were stretched. I had a dull ache in my temples, and yet I found myself without options. Maybe this was the way people felt on death row. I was out of appeals and walking to my ...