The following day I wake up with the most excruciating headache in my life. I feel like they are beating drums inside of my head. I walk downstairs to find something to help make the pain go away. I walk into the kitchen to find Mrs. Costanzo making breakfast. She makes breakfast sometimes, but the maid mostly does it.

“Good morning, Katherine,” I say, taking my seat on one of the stools in the kitchen. Mrs. Costanzo prefers for me to call her by her first name.

“Good morning dear, and take this; it will help with the pain,” She says, handing me Advil and orange juice.

“Thank you, and...