I Took Back Everything They Called “Ours”

laughed.

Short. Mean.

It felt good.

The receipts they’d forgotten

By nine that morning my voicemail box was full.

My mother crying.

My father trying very hard not to sound like he was angry, which somehow sounded angrier.

Madison sounding furious in a way only spoiled people can sound, as if gravity itself had singled them out for abuse.

“You took my vanity continue reading …