Home Entertainment Game Technology Advertisement Part 2: For eight years, my parents made me leave the house every time my brother brought his fiance over; Mom said, “She comes from a good family, don’t embarrass us”; Dad added, “Just disappear for the weekend”; I did; then one weekend, I never came back; it took them four years to find out where I went.

He said the funeral would be private.

He said my mother couldn't bear visitors.

For years, Avery believed him.

"I wrote to your mom," she said quietly.

I stared at her.

"When?"

"Every birthday for the first three years."

My throat tightened.

"She never told me."

Avery shook her head.

"Eventually, Mitch asked me to stop. He said the letters were hurting her."

I looked down at the photograph of my supposed grave.

For eight years after that false death, I'd been living in the same house.

Eating at the same table.

Listening to my parents talk about neighbors and holidays and ordinary things.

While somewhere else, people were remembering me as a dead girl.

"How did you find me?" I asked.

Avery reached for another envelope.

"Grandma Ruth."

My chest tightened.

Ruth had died the previous winter.

She'd been the only person who helped me escape.

The one who gave me a room at her farm and told me I was allowed to want a life of my own.