Ella

As my father, Kingston, calls for the driver to get the car ready, his voice is calm. It's the kind of calm that makes me more anxious because I know underneath it, there might be a big storm brewing.

The driver respectfully opens the door of the black sedan parked at the edge of the compound. As my parents and I get into the car, my mind races ahead, trying to predict what could go wrong.

I turn to my dad, my voice softer than I intend. "Where are we ...