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.

I did not yet know whether he regretted doing it or losing control of the result.

Maybe both.

Then Mom whispered:

“Do you still love us?”

I stared.

The question was so unfair that I almost admired it.

Ruth started to speak.

I touched her arm.

My answer.

“Yes.”

Mom began crying harder.

I continued.

“And I don't trust you.”

Her face went still.

“Both are true.”

That was the last private conversation I had with my parents before sentencing.

I did not promise visits.

Did not promise forgiveness.

Did not promise permanent estrangement either.

For the first time, I left the future undecided.

Mine.
CHAPTER 7 — AVERY SHOWED ME THE DOGWOOD SHE BOUGHT FOR MY MEMORIAL, AND I FOUND MY OWN NAME CARVED INTO A STONE BENEATH IT

The church called me.

I almost hung up.

Then the woman said:

“I'm calling about the memorial garden.”

My stomach turned.

Avery had already warned them I was alive.