I caught my son slipping his expensive dinner into our maid’s old bag. Furious, I demanded, “Why are you stealing from your own family?” He looked up with tears in his eyes and whispered, “Because she’s my real mom, and she only eats our leftovers.” My world spun as I looked at the hidden photo in her bag…

daughter was stranded four hundred miles away. And Vanessa, fueled by her own paranoia, had just sent me a text message that shattered whatever fragile peace remained:

I just spoke to my friend on the agency board. Expect a call tomorrow. I’m having her removed.

Chapter 3: The Interrogation of Souls

I didn’t sleep. The digital clock on my nightstand taunted continue reading …