Incubus Be Gone Every morning for two weeks, I’ve awakened at 3:21 a.m. out of a dead sleep. My throat, parched, I reach for my Yeti cup filled with ice water.

Paige sat at the bottom of the front porch poking at the grass with a stick. At fifteen years old, summer break should be a time of fun at the beach and the discovery of life with her friends. Not this time—Paige’s mom often traveled for her marketing job. This summer, her mom must travel ...