The early morning sun pierced through the grimy windowpane of my bedroom, casting long, fractured shadows across the floorboards. For the first time of my existence, I didn't wait in the darkness for the house to fall silent. I didn't press my ear against the wood, listening for the heavy, unpredictable footsteps of my father or the sharp, erratic breathing of my mother. I stood up, ignoring the dull, phantom throbbing in my side, and unlocked the door with a loud, deliberate click.
When I walked into the cramped kitchen, both of my parents were already there, sitting in the thick, suffocating silence of their ruined ambition. The shredded remains of the fifty-million-dollar check still littered the corner of the room like dead skin. Under their intense, venomous stare, I made my way out
