My Mom Left Me to Rot, Now I’m Her Worst Nightmare

When my mom got divorced, she gave up every single penny of her share of the assets just to win custody of me—a girl suffering from severe anterograde amnesia.

She used to hold me tight and whisper, "Amber, even if your memory only lasts twenty-four hours, I will spend the rest of my life being your sticky note."

To pay for my medical bills, she worked two exhausting jobs, aging herself into an early grave, until we both ended up dead in that cramped, suffocating rented apartment.