After My Dad Passed, My Stepmother Threw Me Out — Then the Black SUVs Showed Up

When my mom died, I was ten. My dad did what he could; he really did. He made French toast on Sundays, left notes in my lunchbox, and cried when he thought I wasn’t watching. He was broken from the grief… but he was still my dad. Cherry showed up when I was 14. She…
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