e, and I was the last o

r of the crowded hall, my heart full. I had raised him. After our par

dream of being an artist. I worked three jobs-waitressing, cleaning offic

everything. I ate instant noodles so he could have steak. I wor

top of his class with a full scho

od on the stage, handsome and confident in his suit. He th

through the microphone, "I want to thank my s

rth it. The sacrifice, the exhaustion, the

an and a woman walked in. They looked rich. The man wore a tailored suit,

oked familiar. P

oat. It was them. My paren

right there, looking older, healthier,

process it. They died. I saw the

beautiful, dressed in designer clothes, and she

them too.

t wasn' t a warm smile. It

alking towards the stage. "Yo

wards them, my legs

mother, Mary, wrinkled her nose. Her eyes were cold, f

woman with them asked, her

other said, not taking her eyes

rom my face. "What are you ta

you are. You were a good little worker bee, weren' t you? T

o spin. "Our son?

daughter is Jessica. The one who grew up with everything she e

d to the gi

at me, "are the mayor' s kid. We swapped y

hought I had, the family I sacrificed everything for-it was all a lie. I wasn' t their

I cho

ths was the only way out. We left you with Alex because we knew you were a responsible little fool. You' d

he boy I had raised. He stood there, silent. He looke

opping, "your purpose is served. You

y, my heart pounding with pure terror.

lease,"

tion. He saw the wealthy parents, the beautiful sister. He saw a li

my death

rds a side door, out into the dark alley behind the hall.

screamed. Bu

ing. He didn' t lift a finger. He just watched as the family

e was only

pened my

. I was in my old bedroom, in the house I sold

en-year-old. Smooth, unscarred, not the hands of a wom

throat. I stumbled to

as circled

of my parents

as

, I wouldn' t