After My Father’s Funeral, My Stepmother Left Me Behind and Claimed Everything—Then I Called the Number Dad Had Hidden in My Pocket

Some were healthy.

Some looked as though they had survived entirely because Grace refused to admit they were dying.

Behind the house was a vegetable garden surrounded by an old wire fence.

That afternoon, Noah helped her water tomatoes.

“You don’t have to work,” Grace told him.

“I know.”

“Then why are you pulling weeds?”

He shrugged.