My dad dumped me on the highway in my cap and gown just to make room for my sister’s giant orange Hermès box, then leaned over with a smirk and said, “Bentleys don’t carry failures—take the bus, Savannah,”
The gravel crunched under my heels because my father didn’t stop the Bentley so much as punish it into stillness. One moment we were gliding down the highway in a cocoon of new lea…