Eleanor’s POV:
I don’t come from a well to do family, in fact, I come from what people always called, a troubled past. Growing up not knowing who my father was and my mother, who worked as an escort, as beauty was her only selling point. I was an exactly image of her as I grew older but, she could never live to see me all grown up, She was terminally ill and then succumbed to her illness when I was very young.
Her sister, my aunt Jenna, a struggling writer was the only known relative who came to take me in. I could tell from her looks that she was not taking good care of herself and the fact that I’d be an additional burden made me feel sorry for her. But, aunt Jenna never once sighed or complained about me being around. Our days went by in the happiness and support that we’d found in ea
