Gabriella’s head banged into the headrest of the taxi seat, as, with a roar of the engine, the cab driver raced away from the curb. She massaged the back of her head with a sigh. Back into the whirlwind.

Shabbos had been deliciously relaxing. Gabriella had been surprised to discover how intensely she felt the day in a foreign country where no one except for herself, her sister, and the few other guests at the Chabad center even knew what Shabbos was.

But now it was Sunday, and, with only three days left to their trip, relaxing was over. She was beginning to feel the pressure to wrap things up. Hah! Wrap things up? She grimaced to herself as they tore down the A1 highway towards the Rhodope Mountains, with the cabby driving like a felon escaping the cops. Melanie was looking green, but Gabriella actually welcomed the high-speed-chase simulation. It perfectly matched her mood. (Mental note: possible stuntman? Not that there were high-speed chases in the film. But Rina would probably love to add one in.)

Her face darkened. Rina. This was all her fault.

Each nightly update phone call was exactly the same. She could practically see the script in her head.

Gabriella (enthusiastically): “I found the perfect setting today for our film’s resort! The most charming Bulgarian village — rustic, weathered-looking. You feel like you’re stepping about a hundred years into the past. It just screams character! And there’s a bed-and-breakfast-type place, a collection of stone cabins grouped around a central grassy knoll — it’ll be gorgeous. The owner’s willing to make a deal with us. Should I sign?”

Rina (looking at the pictures Gabriella sent): “This doesn’t scream character; it screams, ‘Get me a maintenance crew, quick!’ The place looks like a pack of run-down hovels. We can do better. I want chandeliers, sweeping staircases, fairy-tale princess. You can’t find anything like that?”

Gabriella (under her breath): “How about the Waldorf Astoria?”

Rina (ignoring her): “Something like… a castle! What about a castle? There must be castles in Bulgaria.”

Gabriella rested her head against the cold windowpane of the cab. Rina wanted a castle. Why in the world was she wasting her time?

“Why, exactly, are we here?” Melanie asked, after stumbling yet again on the cobblestoned streets of Velika Tarnova. “I thought you don’t do churches.”

Gabriella tucked a sweaty strand of hair back into her headscarf. The website had described Velika Tarnova as a medieval city with eye-catching architecture, but she had to admit, most of the architecture was churches.

Like that was a shocker. She mentally rolled her eyes at herself. What other buildings did they build in the Middle Ages?

“Castles,” she answered herself and her sister. “Rina wanted me to look for a castle. We’re going to check out Tsarevets Fortress.” She glanced up at the restored fortress complex, the seat of the medieval czars, rising up on the hill above them, and said, doubtfully, “Something tells me they’re not going to want to let a bunch of teenage girls play slumber party here.” (Excerpted from Family First, Issue 619)