No Longer His Ghostwriter
Language: en
For ten years, I was Adrian's ghostwriter, crafting his path to literary stardom. When our daughter needed fifty thousand dollars for emergency heart surgery, he'd just won a million-dollar prize—but wouldn't spare a dime. He snapped at me over the phone: "Rachel's son has a cold and I can't leave! All you ever do is ask for money!" I hung up, sold our house, and got my daughter the surgery. Three months later, Adrian threw a celebration party at a hotel. Glass in hand, basking in glory, he spotted me in the crowd. I wore a server's uniform, carrying a tray, bowing with a smile. My…