Behind the closed oak doors of our house, however, he ran a dictatorship.
Our family was a chessboard, and he controlled every piece.
From the time my older sister Lauren was twelve, I watched him shape her into his perfect pawn.
She was soft, easy to influence, and financially dependent on every dollar he slid across the table.
She became the polished accessory he brought to country club dinners—the beautiful, obedient daughter who laughed at his jokes and never questioned a decision.
He rewarded her for it.
Cars.
Credit cards.
Public praise at family gatherings, where he raised his glass and called her his greatest accomplishment.
I was the stubborn rock in his shoe.
Continue on the next page:
