My dad canc3led my ticket and texted, “walk home.” I laughed and replied, “you sure?” my dad suddenly became nervous. Five minutes later, they rushed back to pick me up. but… they were too late.

The airline employee looked at the computer screen, then back at me with an uncomfortable expression. “I’m sorry, Ms. Parker. Your reservation was canceled online forty-seven minutes ago by the person who originally booked the ticket.”

For several seconds, I simply stood there inside Seattle-Tacoma International Airport, listening to suitcases rolling across the floor and boarding announcements echoing overhead. Ten minutes earlier, my father, Grant Parker, had dropped me at another entrance with a smile, acting as though our entire family was about to fly to California together for my mother Linda’s sixtieth birthday.