Six months later, their former house had been demolished, and they were living separate lives far removed from the world they once controlled. My grandmother now lived with me in Napa Valley, surrounded by sunlight and peace instead of manipulation and silence.
People often told me I was cold for what I had done, but they never understood what it meant to be erased while still alive.
As I sat on my vineyard patio watching the sunset, I realized something simple and undeniable.
They tried to bury me.
I simply chose to rise.
