The book begins with my first memory of residential schools, the door slamming and taking me by surprise. My family was gone and I was left alone with nothing but the suitcase my grandmother so lovingly packed with a traditional red dress she had sewn for me, a pair of moccasins, a hairbrush and a doll that was meant to comfort me. Within minutes, my case was taken never to be seen again. I waited years for my name to be called so that I could...