The Nevada desert trip with my adoptive parents, Richard and Linda, was meant to be a relaxing break from my Seattle game studio life.
Then a drifter, "K," whispered something chilling to them; their faces instantly turned cold, demanding I sign over my multi-million dollar company to him.
I laughed, thinking it a joke, but their terrifying insistence quickly proved it was real.
Alone at the rented casita, Linda handed me a drugged beer, and the world went fuzzy.
My own parents dragged me off, delivering me to a brutal woman who tortured me in a remote trailer, breaking my legs.