hit my face

my heart poundi

, the memory,

ther," yellin

," crying fake te

her eyes cold i

e blinding headl

cting to feel broken b

tment.

my phone

day David was going

ife ended, t

ah Miller, a j

that's who I

to have my promotion r

, that meeting b

called Dad, a former g

me of takin

red. Bla

Mom, a former housekeeper, se

ther, an "uncle" wi

stealing her identity, ra

ed. My reput

n with Carol, D

a fall, a

the hospital,

I'd taken out life insuranc

ed it up. Faceboo

oxxed.

he hit-

ng why they ha

I was

rning. The

s time,

wouldn't be

s were

a deep

n't destro

ans, my "roommate,"

gical parents, Mr. and Mrs

ful and worked w

biological older broth

osted on Instagram. A state

nd me the first time,

ould be ready

out

secure, and a famil