Carmella’s skin shone with vitality as she neatly applied the finishing touches to her make-up. Her cellphone pinged. The messenger was unknown, but his signature familiar and trustworthy. Juarez will be at Barrhead Bar and Grill at 7 pm. She examined her freshly painted nails then stared at her reflection in the mirror and remembered a time when she was sixteen. How foolish I was to drop out of school. I was so very angry then. Alone, I had no sense of belonging. I didn’t know who I was....