Every night, I would wait by the window in the living room, looking out for Papa. I would wait for him to come home, no matter how late it was. If it got too late, I would start calling his phone, & when he didn’t pick up, my heart would race, & I would start crying because I was so scared. I was scared that something might have happened to him. When he finally got home, I would give him an earful, even though I was relieved to see him. But then, I had an epiphany: my fear was not unwarranted.