That sign told me everything I might still have doubted.

It told me that my erasure had not been a series of thoughtless slights but a deliberate project, pursued patiently over six years, of which banning me from the birthday was merely the natural final step.

They had not forgotten I existed.

They had decided I should not.

And standing in that cold garden looking at my family’s name shoved into second place beneath the name of a woman who had forged my signature to steal from me, I felt the last of my hesitation go, and I was glad it was gone, because what came next required me to have none.

Chapter 10 — You Have a Delusion