was untouchable. She thought I was too broken to fight back.
My father stepped off the porch, his boots crunching on the gravel as he closed the distance between us. His voice was cold, the same tone he used the night he threw me out into the street at nineteen. “Leave now, Claire, before I call the police. Nobody believes an addict over a family that’s actually contributed something.”
I looked him dead in the eye, feeling the weight of the envelope in my hand. It wasn’t just paper; it
