My parents abandoned me in a hospital at 13 because my ca.nc.er treatment was “too expensive.” 15 years later, hearing I was the Valedictorian of Columbia University College, they demanded VIP tickets

a week. On November 15th, Megan packed my few belongings into her old Honda and drove me to Maple Lane.

Her house was small, with peeling paint on the porch, but the second I stepped inside, it felt safe.

“This is your room,” she said.

The walls were lavender. I had mentioned once, during a late-night card game, that lavender was my favorite color. There continue reading …