Thirty-Seven:
Piper Powell
The woman standing before me had red hair, and freckles. Like me. I vaguely remembered her at birthday parties, at Christmases. Willa Matheson. My Mom’s sister. My Aunt. “Daughter,” she said, with a twisted smile.
I shook my head. “I’m not your daughter, Aunt Willa. I’m your niece. The niece that you gave up to Richard Tanger because you felt that you couldn’t take care of me.”
She laughed. “I didn’t give you Richard Tanager. No, he helped my parents convince the world that I was a crazy, drug addict because I was talking about EVOS before the world knew what EVOS were. But you were never my sister’s child. You were mine. That’s the real reason everyone wanted me to be crazy. They didn’t want me telling them a horrible, awful
