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My mother tried to tell a judge I was “too irresponsible” to control my own life—then, three hours ago, his face went white as he opened my file. I’m Rebecca, twenty-eight years old, sitting under fluorescent courtroom lights while my mother’s attorney smiles like the ending is already written.
I’m Rebecca, twenty-eight years old. Just three hours ago, I sat in a courtroom and watched my own mother try to convince a judge that...
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