And on a bright Saturday morning, two weeks after Easter, her mother looked at her over breakfast, and smiled at her for what seemed like the first time in her life. It almost frightened Gabriella. There was something glittering in her eyes that warned Gabriella that, if she wasn't careful, there would be trouble. But all Eloise said was, “I'm leaving for Reno tomorrow.” And she seemed happy about it. “Are your bags packed, Gabriella?” Gabriella nodded silently in answer. And after breakfast, her mother checked her room and the suitcase, and nodded. Gabriella was relieved to see she hadn't made any unpardonable mistakes in her packing. She saw her mother glance around the room, as though checking to see if she'd forgotten anything, but she seemed satisfied with what she saw. There were no pictures on the walls, there never had been, and the single photograph she'd had of her father on her dresser had been thrown away by her mother shortly after he left. There was nothing to adorn the room, just her bed, the dresser, a chair, plain white curtains at the window, and a linoleum floor, which Jeannie helped her scrub every Tuesday afternoon.

“You won't need any fancy clothes, Gabriella. You can take the pink dress out of the suitcase,” was her only comment as Gabriella quickly removed it and hung it back in her closet before it could displease her further. “Don't forget your-school clothes.” The instructions were confusing, but she had packed some of them anyway because they were comfortable and warm and she wasn't sure how long they'd be staying in Reno. Her mother turned and looked at her then with a look of sarcasm that wasn't unfamiliar to Gabriella. “Your father is getting married in June. I'm sure you'll be happy to know that.” But all Gabriella felt was relief, along with the crushing disappointment of the realization that he was never coming back again. She had known it anyway, but now it was certain. But she was relieved to know he was alive, and hadn't died in a terrible accident, which would have explained his persistent silence. She had written a story about it, and it seemed so real as she wrote it that she had begun to fear that he really had died, and not just left them. “You won't be hearing from him again,” her mother confirmed for the ten thousandth time. “He doesn't care about either of us. He never did. He never loved you, or me. I want you to remember that, Gabriella. He never cared about you.” Eloise stared down at Gabriella with a spark of anger kindling in her eyes and she seemed to be waiting for an answer as Gabriella stood there. “You do know that, don't you?” Gabriella nodded in silence, wanting to say that she didn't believe her, but doing that might have cost her her life and she knew that as well. She was far too wise now to risk her own survival for the sake of defending her father. And perhaps he never had loved them, though she still found it hard to believe that. Perhaps if she had been better, and less troublesome, he might have loved them more, and stayed… but she still remembered the look in his eyes on that last night in her bedroom. His eyes had told her he loved her, no matter what her mother said now. That's what made it all so confusing.

Her mother went out with friends that night, and Gabriella made a sandwich, and ate it in the kitchen by herself. The house was quiet and peaceful, and she sat for a long time, contemplating the mysterious trip they were undertaking the next day. What awaited them in Reno, or their reasons for going there, was still a mystery to her, and she knew she would have to wait until they got there to discover the answers to her questions. It was a little unsettling not knowing anything at all, and she felt sad, in an odd way, leaving home. This was the house where she had lived with her father, and she could still envision him there as she walked from room to room, or slowly up the stairs, remembering the sound and the smell of him, when he had just put on his aftershave. But they wouldn't be gone long, and maybe it would be an adventure. Maybe Frank would be there, and he would talk to her this time. Maybe he would be nice to her, and if she was very, very good, and did everything possible not to make him angry at her, he might even like her. She promised herself to try hard, as she walked slowly up the stairs.

She was asleep when her mother came in that night, and she didn't hear her as she walked down the long hall to her bedroom. Eloise was smiling to herself as she undressed, a whole new life was about to begin, filled with new promise, and the opportunity to close the door on all her old disappointments. She could hardly wait to leave the next day. She was taking the train the following evening, but she hadn't explained that yet to Gabriella, who still had no idea what time they were leaving.

And so as not to be late, and anger her mother before they left, Gabriella got up at dawn the next day, and when her mother came downstairs for breakfast at nine o'clock, Gabriella had coffee waiting for her. She set the cup down in front of her mother, excruciatingly careful not to spill it. She rarely did now. By this time, she had learned most of her lessons to perfection. The coffee was exactly the temperature her mother liked it. And Eloise said nothing, which was a sign to Gabriella that at least she hadn't upset her. Yet. But that could change in an instant, like a flash of summer lightning.

It was a full half hour before her mother spoke to her, and then she asked Gabriella if she was ready. She was. She had closed her suitcase before coming downstairs, and she was wearing a gray skirt and a white sweater, and she had a navy blue blazer carefully folded over the chair in her bedroom, along with her navy beret and the white gloves she wore whenever they went out together. Her black patent leather Mary Janes were impeccable and without scuffs, and the white ankle socks she wore were immaculate and folded over just the way her mother liked them. With her blond hair pulled back in a neat ponytail, and her huge blue eyes, she was a vision that would have melted any heart but her mother's. At ten, she was still an adorable little girl. Not yet gangly, and no longer a baby, there were already signs that she would be a beauty one day, which won her no favor with her mother.

Eloise stood waiting in the doorway as Gabriella went upstairs to put on her hat, her gloves, and her jacket and pick up her suitcase, and when she came back downstairs, she saw that her mother hadn't brought her own bags down yet. She wondered instantly if her mother expected her to do it for her, and started back up the stairs to get them.

“Where are you going now?” Eloise asked in an exasperated tone. She had a thousand things to do and didn't want to waste another moment.

“To get your bags for you,” Gabriella said solemnly, turning to look over her shoulder.

“I'll do that later. Hurry up now.” The directions were confusing, but there was no way Gabriella could ask her for an explanation, even now, at the eleventh hour, as they seemed to be ready to leave the house. She noticed then that her mother was wearing a gray skirt and an old black sweater she usually only wore in the house, or to do errands. Unlike Gabriella, she didn't seem to be dressed for travel. And she hadn't even bothered to put on a hat that morning, which was rare for her mother. But without saying a word, Gabriella preceded her out of the house, carrying her small suitcase, and suddenly as she glanced back into the house where she had known so much pain, she felt a brief stab of terror. Something was wrong and she knew it, but it seemed crazy to think that. But suddenly all she wanted to do was run back inside and hide in the back of the hall closet. She hadn't done that in nearly two years now. She had learned long since that hiding only made the beatings worse, she was better off just subjecting herself to them, and yet suddenly now anything would have seemed better than following her mother blindly down the stairs to an unknown fate, which might possibly be even worse than the familiar agonies she had known here.

“Don't drag your feet, Gabriella. I don't have all day,” she said with a scowl as she walked across the sidewalk briskly in high heels and hailed a taxi. But she had no suitcases with her whatsoever, and Gabriella knew now without a doubt that wherever she was going, her mother wasn't going with her. But where could she possibly be taking her, with a valise, on a Saturday morning? Gabriella had no idea, and her mother told her nothing.

Eloise gave the cabdriver an address Gabriella didn't recognize, in the East Forties, and Gabriella could feel her heart pound as they silently drove the twenty blocks downtown. The uncertainty of their destination filled her with terror, but she knew that if she asked a single question now, she would pay for it dearly later. Her mother did not look inclined to talk as she stared out the window of the Checker cab, lost in her own thoughts, with nothing to say to her daughter. Eloise glanced at her watch once or twice, and seemed satisfied that her tight schedule wasn't being jeopardized too badly. And by the time they reached a large gray building on Forty-eighth Street near the East River, Gabriella's hands were shaking and she felt nauseous. Maybe she had done something really terrible this time, and her mother was taking her to the police, or somewhere similar, to be punished by someone else. Anything was conceivable in a life as filled with terror as hers was. There was never any security for Gabriella, anywhere.

Her mother paid the cab, and got out ahead of Gabriella, who seemed to be moving with irritating slowness as she wrestled awkwardly with her suitcase, but nothing on the outside of the building gave her the least clue as to what it was or why she had come here. Her mother rang the bell, and banged a heavy brass knocker. It was an impressive building, and it seemed unusually austere to Gabriella, as they waited interminably for someone to open the door. Her eyes sought her mother's for a long moment, and then she looked down at her feet, so her mother wouldn't see the tears she was trying not to succumb to, as she felt her legs shake in raw fear. And then finally, with agonizing slowness, the door opened just enough for a small, frail face to peek through.