Stolen Identity, True Revenge

cking me awake in the dingy

ping glass in his hand, his chil

iladelphia alley in 2014, the freezing rain, Ame

y death, nine ye

ask of disapproval, instantly demanding my meager tips and shamin

confirmed this wasn't just a dream; it was indeed Oc

daily abuse and theft, and ultimately discovering Mark was al

ad systematically stolen my identity, my

uld I

this cruel future I'd already surv

ores, your UPenn acceptance, even your father's

that alley, poisoned by their lies

mbing despair I remembered was replaced

he truth I knew would not be buried-it wo

ey would pay