The sun hung low over the water, casting long, golden shadows across the gravel driveway of the house that had been my sanctuary. I stood there, clutching a manila envelope, while the air thick with humidity and tension pressed against my skin. On the porch, the people who shared my DNA stood like a firing squad, their faces twisted in a mixture of disdain and unearned superiority.
My mother was the first to break the silence, her voice screeching like a rusted hinge. She pointed a manicured finger at my
