My father texted me, ‘To us, you’re already dead,’ and I only replied,

afraid.

“Valerie, don’t do anything stupid. Come home. There are things you don’t know about Danielle, about Michael… and about you.”

Before the message cut off, I heard my mother screaming in the background:

“Don’t tell her she wasn’t the little girl we wanted to choose.”

And that was when I understood that the worst part hadn’t even begun.

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