My Sister Told Me to Clean Her Shoes at the Country Club. I Threw Them Away and Drove Home. Weeks Later, I Had 49 Missed Calls.

more than almost anything else.

My childhood was unremarkable in the way that privilege often is—good schools, soccer leagues, piano lessons I never wanted but dutifully attended. My father, Thomas Castellano, was a corporate attorney who worked in Manhattan and commuted home on the 6:47 train every evening, arriving just in time to miss dinner but continue reading …