I have a sour taste in my mouth as I get into my car. I don’t turn the ignition but look back at Layla’s home. I don’t know what I was expecting when I knocked on the front door, but it wasn’t Carl, a man who truly loves Layla. He was genuinely happy to meet me. I came with the intention of confronting Layla for not answering her phone and warning her never to do that again. But as I stepped over the threshold, my intentions changed. Their home is modest, but it’s a real home. I ...