Three Years of Hell for a Family That Never Died
912 Views · Ongoing · Piper Hayes
Three years ago, a private plane crash took my father, my mother, my brother Carter, and Grayson, the man I'd loved for seven years and was about to marry.
To hold onto everything they left behind, I cried until my eyes were raw, destroyed my stomach, and fought my way through boardrooms and Wall Street vultures.
On countless nights, I held their photographs and cried until I passed out.
What I never understood was why Willow, the foster sister we'd taken in, vanished without a trace after the crash.
Until today, three years later, when I drive back to the family estate with a diagnosis in my bag telling me I have three months to live.
I push open the heavy door and hear laughter. I see my family—the family that's supposed to be dead—gathered around Willow and her three-year-old son, singing happy birthday.
Turns out no one in this world ever loved me at all.
Why do they all get to live while I'm the only one who have to die?
To hold onto everything they left behind, I cried until my eyes were raw, destroyed my stomach, and fought my way through boardrooms and Wall Street vultures.
On countless nights, I held their photographs and cried until I passed out.
What I never understood was why Willow, the foster sister we'd taken in, vanished without a trace after the crash.
Until today, three years later, when I drive back to the family estate with a diagnosis in my bag telling me I have three months to live.
I push open the heavy door and hear laughter. I see my family—the family that's supposed to be dead—gathered around Willow and her three-year-old son, singing happy birthday.
Turns out no one in this world ever loved me at all.
Why do they all get to live while I'm the only one who have to die?

















































