The Daughter They Buried Twice
Ten years after my wealthy family took me back, I died in the rental house my billionaire parents had dumped me in.
My son was three.
Just to mess with me, the kidnapper gave me three chances to call for help.
If even one person was willing to come see me, he'd spare my child.
The first call was to my father, the man who'd spent fifteen years searching for me.
He was busy directing the staff as they set up my adoptive sister's birthday party.
When he picked up, he barked, "Estelle Emerson, seriously? Can you go one week without causing a scene? It's your sister's birthday. I'm busy. Don't kill the vibe."
The second call was to my mother, the woman who brought me home and changed my na