EATING in my favourite West-side restaurant last December, I had cause for celebration. At last I had my life in order. My husband and I had just moved with our teenage daughter from New York to Los Angeles to be closer to our ageing parents.
Our high schooler had joined the basketball team and was making friends. We’d found what I hoped would be our forever home. My work as a counsellor gratified me. I thought I had finally reached that elusive place: stable and successful adulthood.
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