I thought my husband killed my daughter.
He’s innocent.
I thought my father died of a stroke.
He was murdered.
I thought my sister was alive and living in Florida.
She’s been dead for ten years.
I thought my foster daughter was safe in my home.
She’s not.
Everything I thought I knew is a lie.
But I have to focus on the future, on the young girl I’m fostering. I find her in my back yard in the middle of the night — she’s tiny, lost and terrified.
Someone left her here.
It’s all connected. The lies are piling up. I don’t know where this girl came from. She won’t tell me anything. Not even her name.
I have no idea who I’ve brought into my home . . .
