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To plan this long-awaited graduation road trip, I spent three months researching and created a detailed fifty-page travel guide. During the trip, I handled all the cooking, cleaning, and most of the late-night driving. But at a lonely service stop out in the northwest, I went to the restroom, and when I came out of the restroom, the RV I had paid for in full was gone. My boyfriend, Ryan Brooks, and our three college buddies had vanished, too. Under the scorching sun, I waited for two hours before finally borrowing a stranger's phone to log into social media. Ryan had just posted a video. The RV was cruising down the most scenic highway, with Emily Turner, his childhood friend who loved to play the little sister, sitting in the passenger seat. The guys in the back were joking around, "It's way more fun with Emily around. Unlike someone else, who has to count calories even at a barbecue. Total buzzkill." Ryan gripped the steering wheel with one hand, wearing a sarcastic smile. "Let her get a reality check at the service stop, so she doesn't start thinking she's our mom or something." Watching them all laughing and having a blast, I didn't even bother calling to confront them. Instead, I dialed the rental company's satellite service hotline. "Hello, my RV has been stolen. Please activate the remote fuel cutoff and lock the vehicle immediately," I said.