At 3 a.m., my stepmother and stepsisters stole my credit card and spent $100,000 on a luxury trip—returning home smug and unaware the card they used wasn’t what they thought it was.

them, panicked and confused.

“Who is this?”

Chloe’s lips trembled.

“Why does everyone look like they’ve seen a ghost?”

“Because they have,” I said.

Thomas’s eyes shifted to me.

And there it was—the smallest fracture in his expression.

Not pity.

Not apology.

Recognition.

“Natalie,” he said softly. “You look like your mother.”

My throat closed so violently that continue reading …