SHOWGIRL STRIPPER S LIFE

The black SUV pulled up to my childhood D.C. estate after ten years away.

I stepped out, expecting a quiet, perhaps strained, family dinner.

Instead, a lavish party was in full swing, music and laughter spilling from the open doors.

Then I saw her: my cousin, Chloe, wearing my dress, laughing with Julian Vance-my fiancé from a decade ago.

My research. My fellowship. She was claiming it all as her own, right in front of me.

Just as confusion ripped through me, my mother, Eleanor, appeared, her face hardening into an icy mask.

"Ava," she said, her voice a chilling whisper. "What are you doing here?"