vff-AT MY STEPSISTER’S 500-GUEST WEDDING, THE SAME FAMILY WHO THREW ME OUT AT SIXTEEN LET ME STAND IN THE BACK OF THE BALLROOM LIKE I WASN’T EVEN BLOOD

The slap landed so hard it turned my face toward the champagne tower.

For a brief second all I saw was light—gold light from the chandeliers, silver light from the mirrored wall behind the bar, the glitter of five hundred glasses raised in celebration. My cheek burned. The skin just below my eye throbbed in a hot, immediate pulse. Somewhere a woman continue reading …