Stolen Vows, Sharpened Spine

Consciousness didn’t return; it crashed, a verdict with teeth. I woke to the taste of metal, a spine stapled shut, and a voicemail that detonated everything I’d bled for. My parents’ voices were bright, rehearsed, explaining how “we” had sold “our” house to fund “the big day.” My name never showed up as owner, only as donor. They forgot what happens when you corner someone who has nothing left to lo… Continues…