My twin sister and I were both eight months pregnant. At her baby shower, my cru/el mom demanded that I give my $18,000 baby fund to my sister, saying, “She deserves it more than you!”

Chapter 6: What Remains

Months later, I stood in my daughter’s nursery, holding her close.

Peaceful.

Safe.

Alive.

My mother was in prison.

My sister took a deal.

My father lost everything.

And me?

I finally breathed.

I didn’t forgive them.

Some wounds aren’t meant to heal softly.

They’re meant to burn—so you never forget who lit the fire.

But I survived.