“Get out before the cake is cut,” my mother hissed, blocking me from my sister’s wedding as Dad called me a beggar and Grace smiled like she had buried me twice.
My name is Elizabeth Collins, though by the time I walked back through the golden doors of the Evergreen Resort Ballroom, almost no one in that room knew what that name had become. Eleven years earlier, I had left that same building with a cheap suitcase digging into my palm, rainwater soaking through my shoes,…