Every day since has been a gift I gave to the girl who survived four years of being invisible, who worked until her feet bled and her eyes burned, who studied in parking lots and restaurant breakrooms, who never gave up even when giving up would have been so much easier. She deserved better than silence.
She deserved to be seen, to be heard, to be celebrated.
And now, finally, she is. My name is Morgan Townsend. I am twenty-four years old.
And I am no longer a ghost in my own life.
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