Hailey
My mother packs up my things, and I go home the next day. Not much changes except my location. The televisions and newspapers are still plastered with the photos of me, and my face stares back at me from every corner of the world. As I step out of the car and walk up to my porch, a cameraman runs up and blocks my path. "Do you have any comments for the people who think you"re faking your a*******n?"
The question hangs in the air for a moment.
“I"m not faking anything,” I reply. “Now, get off my property.”
But even as the words leave my mouth, I know that I have to do more to prove myself. I have to do more to break free from the spotlight. I have to find the car, the house, those men. I have to get the answers I need. But where do I begin?
Afterward, I"m lying in bed. My mind i
