Catherine I had a bad feeling that I just couldn’t explain. All I knew for certain was that it had something to do with Cecelia. I had blown up her phone with text messages and called her a dozen times, but she hadn’t answered or responded. With each passing hour, my anxiety heightened, and I got to imagining all sorts of terrible scenarios. What if she had been attacked? What if she was lying dead somewhere? I paced and fretted around the packhouse for an entire day before I finally made up my mind to go see for myself if my sister was all right. I grabbed the keys to my father’s Lincoln and snuck out of the house right under my father’s nose. I did have a driver’s license, thanks to Cessy, who bullied our father into letting me take a Driver’s Education course when I turned s