Elaine.
“My name is Natalie Rose Pierce,” I continued. “For twenty-one years, I was raised as Claire Ellison. I am not here to explain which name feels real. They both do. That is part of what was taken from me.”
Elaine covered her mouth.
Martin looked straight ahead.
“You gave me a childhood,” I said. “But you stole my family, my history, my parents’ continue reading …
