Summertime, the middle of the night. My babysitter, Della, grabbed me in her arms and screamed at my sister to get out of bed. NOW. Why? Where were my parents? Della carried me down the steep steps of our second-floor bedroom. My sister trailed behind. "Where are my mommy and daddy? Where are my mommy and daddy?" she yelled. We moved fast as lightning toward the front door and passed my parents' bedroom, the bed perfectly made, my father's shoes on the floor, the laces hanging down.