Chapter One Hundred Twelve

1387 Words

Winter Hart The source of all my childhood pain was standing at the table in a tight red dress. I hated that I looked so much like her. I was nothing like her. From my father's reaction, it was clear that he didn't expect her to be here, and why would he? Her new husband plays for a team across the country, even though I think he is retired now. Why would my mother waste money on a charity gala? She barely likes her own kids, let alone someone else's. She was the most selfish person I had ever met, and I loathed the fact that she was my blood. She never cared about me, my brothers, or Dad. She only wanted the title of the hockey superstar's wife. My father was an excellent player in his prime and broke and still holds records. He was once one of the top-paid players. "Mom, I told you

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