My name is Lily Bennett.
I was eight years old when I learned how quickly a child can disappear inside her own family.
After my parents died in a car crash outside St. Louis, my infant twin brothers—Eli and Owen—and I were sent to live with my mom’s older brother, Uncle Ray, and his wife, Diane, in a quiet suburb of Chicago.
From the outside, they looked like a normal, respectable couple.
He ran a small auto shop.
She volunteered at church and posted smiling family photos online.
But inside that house… we didn’t exist.
There was always food in the kitchen.
