I lay there in my bed for a moment reflecting on the coming day, my long blonde hair spread across the pillow like a golden halo. At a mere seventeen, I had graduated from college two years before. Now I am working on my PhD thesis on Elizabeth Barrett Browning's sonnets. Mom had always said that I was too brilliant for ordinary education. "Allie," Mom's voice drifted through the door, smooth as aged whiskey but with an e...