Cutting Their Losses
When I was seven years old, my parents burned my birth certificate right in front of me at the dinner table.
Across from me, my younger sister, Abigail Parker, calmly cut into her steak without even looking up.
Dad said that raising two children was just another investment, and every investment had to be cut loose before the losses became too big.
I was the loss they chose to write off. They poured every advantage into Abigail while leaving me to grow up in a dark, damp basement.
Twenty years later, my parents are old, and Abigail, whom they placed on a pedestal, has become the most ruthless creditor they've ever faced.
Standing in the dust-covered family home, I unfold a yellowed docum