was still lying in the country club parking lot. I managed to sit up, my head pounding. The

er Cla

tners once. She was brilliant, driven, and one of the

voice a weak

blue, but I just opened my own firm, Clarkson Designs, right here in Chicago. I'm hirin

way out.

ord tasting like fre

ily estate. I wasn't going for a fight. I just needed my t

been deleted from the security system. I was completely locked out. A servant, a ki

m was

t. I found my things in a pile of trash bags by the back gate, soaked

ailed. The psychic told my mother my birth chart was a bad omen. A week later, they adopted Caleb, the "good luc

mistake. This was a systematic erasure. They didn't just want me gone. They wanted me to h