My Identity Was Stolen

r air, my frantic struggles growing weaker against the ruthless pressure. Through the ringing in my ears, I heard Ms. Davis' s voice, a hiss fill

sn' t

bright just hours before, was end

t my skin, and delivered a speech about dreams and hard work. My parents, working abroad, had watched the livestream, their proud vo

nce I was a child. But when I arrived, dressed in the gown my mother had sent me, th

. I peered through the large glass wind

wearing my dress, the one my parents had bought for me. She was smiling, accepting congratulations fro

ted banging on the door, screaming my name,

Sarah Miller! That

he glass, I saw Emily' s mother, my guardian Ms. Davis, whisper som

leave. You' re cau

That' s my party!" I pl

young woman inside. They made their choice. Emily, with her practiced smile, h

was. That' s when Ms. Davis stormed out. Her face, which had always shown me such kindness

d enough for everyone to hear. "How dare you d

he house' s back corridors. They threw me into the small, windowless storage room. The lock clicked, plunging me into abs

' t yelling anymore. She just looked at me with cold, dead eye

lone, could you?" she whispere

she pushe

issolved into a su

ped, shooti

air. I was in my bed, in my room at the Davis house, where I' d lived while my paren

pillow was gone. There w

confusion. I fumbled for it on my nightstand,

ollege admission re

it all

dead. I