PART 2: Three weeks after my midnight-blue Versace dress vanished from my closet

father’s funeral?
After he brought his mistress wearing my stolen dress into the front row like she was auditioning to replace me before the flowers even died?

“No,” I said softly. “This is exactly where.”

The priest shifted awkwardly nearby while the organ player stared down at the keys, pretending not to hear any of it.

But everyone heard it.

Every investor.continue reading …