aw was my father' s enraged face turning away, and heard my
. Across the room, Stella, the girl he' d raised as his own, held the shattered pieces of my mother' s locket-my only memento of her. "Oops," she pu
banished. Then she swapped our bodies, trapping me in her life of torment at the horse san
could I have been so naive, so foolish, to fall for her every trick? The injustice b
s was a vivid memory. I knew her plan, every single twisted step. And this time, I was ready. I