The Dying Man's Legacy

tion facility" clanged shut, freeing me

ansion, my face a roadmap of scars,

not with solace, but with cold accusation, immediately bl

s devoid of warmth, sneering that my hundred cuts w

ulative ploy, my mother even admitting

by memories of forced drain cleaner and relentless b

actively participate in my torture, and then refuse

e' s lavish birthday gala, where

ling my screams and brutal abuse, unexpectedly explode

accusations quickly re-blinded

from this family, whose belated remorse and desper

glimpsed, had a wa