I stood in my kitchen leaning back against the counter. I could feel the draft from the window above the sink hitting my back. It only added to my chills; I was in a solemn mood as it was. Halfway through my junior year of high school, I had just gotten home from school after a disastrous midterm exam and now this. Dad had beaten us home and told us he wanted to have a family meeting that night. He said there was something important to tell us. I had a feeling it would be bad. Would it be about the move?
A family meeting meant I would have just enough time after leaving Wednesday night you…
