Diane vino conmigo.
She signed for the $38,400 loan without hesitation.
“You’ll pay it back,” she told the loan officer. “I know my boy.”
Fourteen months later, I’d repaid everything.
Today, my company employs twelve people and operates six service vans.
We’re not famous or wealthy.
But we do honest work, and our customers trust us.
That means something to me.
I still have difficult memories.
Sometimes I sleep with the television on because silence reminds me of that empty road.
I’ve attended therapy and learned that healing isn’t always straightforward.
But I’ve built a life I’m proud of.
Diane is my family.
My employees have become close friends.
I rarely think about Ray or Cheryl.
I knew they had a daughter named Megan, my half-sister, who was now twenty-three.
I’d seen photographs of her online but had never met her.
Then, one Tuesday afternoon, everything changed.
