I’m 17, and my brother Noah is 15.
Our mom passed away when I was 12. Dad remarried Carla two years later, but last year he died suddenly from a heart attack. Overnight, everything in the house changed.
Carla took control of the bills, the accounts, the mail—everything. Mom had left money for Noah and me, and Dad always said it was for “important things”: school, college, milestones. But Carla had her own definition of “important.”

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