My stepfather sl;ap;ped me so hard in the hospital, right after my surgery. "You're faking it," he sneered. What he didn’t know was that I had already uncovered his plan to slowly po;is;on my mom for the insurance money. So when he showed up at his bowling championship, he wasn’t met with applause—he was met with the FBI. "Stop faking it! Get up and earn your keep!" Gary, my stepfather, roared in the recovery room. I was three days post-emergency surgery, my incision barely closed, but to him, I

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