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The day my parents fled with my little sister to avoid what they owed, they left me behind with the collection agents. “That child has something wrong with her head,” my mother said. “She spends all day reading and talking nonsense. Keep her, leave her somewhere else, send her away. We don’t care.” Claire’s voice echoed down the apartment hallway. “Mother, isn’t my sister coming with us?” “No. She only cares about books. She isn’t family.” I had heard those words countless times. Ever since Claire was born, my parents had treated me like a burden. Once, I only tried to look into her crib, and my mother pushed me back. “Don’t touch your sister. Your hands are filthy.” When the apartment door was shoved open, I was crouched in the corner, reading a battered criminal law textbook. A tattooed man stopped in front of me. “Your parents ran. How are you repaying what they owed?” I closed the book and forced my voice to stay steady. “I studied recordings from your previous collections. At least twelve actions could be viewed as improper pressure, but I know how to restructure the facts and agreements legally.” I handed him several wrinkled pages listing three years of legal risks and solutions. He stared at them, then muttered in surprise. “Unbelievable. I’ve handled collections for twenty-six years, and a kid just taught me how to do it legally.” The day my parents fled with my little sister to avoid what they owed, they left me behind with the men who had come to collect. "There's something wrong with this kid. She's not right in the head. All she does is clutch those books and ramble about things no one understands. Keep her if you want. If you don't, place her somewhere else. Send her away for all I care." My little sister's clear, childish voice drifted down the apartment hallway. "Mother, isn't Erin coming with us?" "No. She only cares about books. She's not part of our family." I had heard those words more times than I could count. After Claire was born, my parents g
