I'm 15 years old, sitting on my bed. My dad walks into my room. He sits down beside me and something feels different. He's quiet. Too quiet. He looks at me and I see tears in his eyes. Tears I don't ever remember seeing before. I'm not going to tell you what to do, he says softly. But family matters, Svena. Family is the most important thing. I had asked him earlier that day if I could skip our family dinner to have dinner with my boyfriend instead. I was freshly in love. There would be more family dinners, ...