Dead Before You Called Me Home

Summary

I was what modern child psychologists would have called an anxiously attached child. A high-needs daughter born into a family that valued pedigree, composure, and emotional austerity above all else.

As a little girl, I couldn’t fall asleep unless my mother sat by the edge of my bed, her hand smoothing my hair until my breathing slowed. When the private town car dropped me off at the academy gates, I refused to walk past the wrought-iron arches unless my father walked me to the front steps himself.