er throat, her voice tight

, we have some i

and felt a cold dread creep up my spine. I knew this momen

to our separate hells. I was sent to the Clarks, where my so-called sister Nicole framed me, got my leg

s of her natural talent, drugged her, stole all her recipe

. High school seniors, on the verge of everything, w

her smile not reaching her eyes. "The Clarks and the Lawrences. They're v

the worn-out table of the grou

ocial worker d

N

was fla

blinked, confused.

as cold as my memory of their crue

able agreement. This time, no one was sepa

up home. One group was clustered around a polished girl with a fake smile, Nicole. That was my

biological father, stepped forward. His e

thew Clark. It's

t welcoming. I

pped in front of me, her quiet v

eady have a daughter?" she asked, gest

cole is our daughter. We adopted he

voice shaking slightly but firm. "Jocelyn is my sist

ith fake tears. "I don't understand. I was so excited

e dripping with annoyance. "U

hope I had in my past life, the desperate need for his appr

"She's right. I'm n

ud for everyone to hear. "I don't know you.

e formal tone he understood. "Mr. Clark, y

the Clark family. My mother look

Anthony Lawrence, turned h

even get into the culinary institute. Poisoned before the exam, was it? A likel

to diminish her. In our past

your niece, Debra. The one you praise so much

Excuses. I have no

wered by my defense, look

h newfound strength. "You're not a father. You'

into his wallet, pulled out a few hundred-dolla

t without my help. You'll c

linoleum floor. Then we looked at each other

I said, handing the bills to St

oyed us once before. We walked back to the only real home we h

place. We would protect Maria, the matron who raised us, who in our las

e everyone we loved. An