A Life Built on Their Lies

e exactly at seven

e a last-minute commission. It' s a huge

e was laced with a famili

We' ll have to miss the

rozen pizza on my kitchen counter. It

. I understand. W

id Reynolds, were struggling artists. Every holiday was just another opportunity for them t

voice chimed in from the background. "We left some mo

dollar bill next to the

ad watched them sacrifice everything for me. They wore threadbare clothes so I could have new school supplies. They ate

uldn' t stand the thought of them toiling away in their c

he pizza and we could at least spend a few minutes together

eople avoided after dark. As I got closer, I expected to see the dim light

eir old, beat-up van should have been. The ki

e dumpster, my hear

othes. He was in a tailored suit, looking sharp and confident. My mother, Sarah, got out after him. She was wea

ed in designer clothes, with an easy, entitled smile. My parents flanked him, my mother loving

ppy family. They walked towards the entrance of the most expen

on its axis. It d

the dumpster, my mind blan

he smiles on their faces vanished

s voice was sharp. "Wh

stammered, holding up the now-cold pi

"You should be at home. W

p and down with open disdain, his eyes linge

stepping in front of him as if to shield h

The words hit me l

d out here," my mother cooed, her attention

d look. "Go home, Oliv

lian into the warm, golden light of the restaurant.

e sounds from the restaurant mocking my pain.

ill was still on the table. A cruel joke. I walked numbly to my ro

overty, their sacrifices, their love-a

our poverty. I remembered wearing my cousin' s hand-me-downs, the fabric thin and faded. I remembered the other kids laughing at

ter scholarship, all to ease the financial burden I thought we all

wooden box. It was where they kept "sentimental" things. I pried it ope

brushed against

en. Stock certificates for blue-chip companies. And contracts. Contracts for art sales, not for a few hund

staggering. They weren' t just com

. The image of them with that boy, Julian, flashed

e a dirty secret. Julian was the one they che

est. My life wasn't just a lie. It was a carefully

ack in my bed, and this crippling reality would just be a bad dream. But when I opened th