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.
Not clearly. I had been seventeen, half-asleep in the back of a car after a school event. My father had taken a call. Vanessa had whispered fiercely into the phone. Later, there had been shouting behind closed doors.
