No More Bets on Me
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Summary
To maintain what they called absolute fairness, my parents raised my younger sister and me by a wheel of fortune.
It hung on the dining room wall—a varnished wooden spinner that dictated everything from who got the last piece of pie to who scrubbed the toilets, who took the blame, and who paid the bills. Whatever the pointer landed on was considered the will of God.
When a drunk driver clipped my sedan and shattered my lower leg, the wheel landed on "Self-Pay".
