My name is Tara Carnell. I’ve always been the tall girl in every photo — blonde hair, light‑blue eyes, standing at 5'11" with the kind of build that made people assume I lived on a volleyball court, even though I never played a single game. Tomorrow, I turn eighteen. I’ve counted down to this birthday for years, imagining the moment I’d finally step into adulthood with everything lined up exactly the way I planned.
But before tomorrow comes, there’s one last milestone: my high school graduation.
Getting here wasn’t simple. For me, school wasn’t just homework and tests — it was trying to stay focused while home spun like a revolving door. My dad, my brother, their friends… always in and out of jail. Always another phone call, another court date, another reminder that the people I loved kept falling into the same dark places.
That’s why I wanted Harvard Law. Not for the prestige, but because I was tired of watching my family get swallowed by a system I didn’t understand. I wanted answers. I wanted justice. I wanted to be the one who could walk into a courtroom and fight for them.
Or so I thought.
Because the truth comes later.