My family locked me in the basement to give birth. Days later, they returned to find a dark red liquid seeping from the door. As my mother screamed, a voice whispered behind her, “Looking for me?”

the sun-drenched, opulent living room was violently disorienting. The scent of Eleanor’s expensive floral perfume and fresh winter air felt alien in my lungs. I sank into the center of the white linen sofa, my clothes stained with concrete dust and dried wine. My parents remained standing, hovering awkwardly near the fireplace. Samantha leaned defensively continue reading …