My aunt burned my face with boiling water. Now I’m the one who feeds her. I was only eight years old when the scream of my burning skin marked my life forever.
Rejoice was only eight years old when her life changed forever. Her mother died giving birth to her baby brother, and her father—an overworked bricklayer—couldn’t care for both a baby boy and a baby girl at the same time. So he made a heartbreaking decision: he took the baby with him to the city and…
