My name\’s Rachel. I\’m 19, and last fall, my world fell apart when my parents died in a car crash. One minute they were on their way to dinner; the next, I was standing in a cold hallway at 3 a.m., clutching a paper cup of vending machine coffee, wishing I could hit rewind. At the will reading, I found out they\’d left the family home to my father\’s sister, Dina – the one who\’d always hated me. There was no money left; it had all gone to Mom\’s treatments. Two days later, Dina showed up and said, \”YOU\’VE GOT ONE DAY TO GET OUT OF MY HOUSE.\” I tried to plead. I told her I could find a job, help with the bills, or anything else. She just rolled her eyes and flopped down on the couch. \”Can you move? You\’re blocking the TV.\” She didn\’t care. So while she stretched out on the couch watching TV, I folded my life into bags. The next morning, I walked out with tears in my eyes and saw a black limousine parked outside. I was about to walk past it when the door suddenly opened and I heard my name. I turned around and GASPED. I couldn\’t believe my eyes. \”What are you doing here?\” I asked. ⬇️ read more in comment