My Real Countdown Began At Death
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Summary
My sister Lynn was a hurricane of a human being. From the moment she could walk, she tore through life leaving wreckage in her wake, and from the moment I was old enough to understand, I was the one who swept up the ash.
I did it because of the clock.
It was a digital hum beneath the skin of my left wrist, a glowing red countdown that only I could see.
[Days remaining until family demise: 193]
A voice in my head—a system I believed in with the desperate, naive faith of a child—told me that every time I took the fall for Lynn’s transgressions, the clock would extend.
