Christie Whitfield-Adams has the picture-perfect life: a husband who loves her, a
thriving career, stop-in-your-tracks good looks, and an undeniable bond with her
father, Kenneth. In a nutshell, Christie’s living the typical American dream. When
her father mysteriously falls gravely ill, his two sisters step up and begin to care
for him while Christie puts life as she knows it on pause to be by her father’s
bedside. However, when Kenneth’s sisters begin acting strangely, just as things
take a turn for the worse, Christie must put her grief to the side to figure out the
mystery starring her in her face.
While Christie struggles with her own personal grief, she learns the many secrets
that those closest to her worked hard to keep buried. There’s missing money,
missing personal items and, worse of all, there’s deception being painted as
“love”. Layer by layer, Christie begins to uncover exactly who had been for her
father and who had been for betraying him and his legacy. Will the realization of
what she once thought was perfect send Christie running in pain, or will she be
ready to bandage up her Wounds of Deception?
“How was your drive?” Kenneth asked as he took his eyes off the large gathering
of people at the picnic shed.
Christie shrugged and took a deep breath, “Long, as usual. But I’m glad
to see you. Glad to be here.”
Kenneth grinned widely, showing all of his pearly whites and a dimple
on the right cheek. “All your cousins have been asking when you were going to
get here. You would think they were waiting on Oprah the way they kept checking
the parking lot,” he said with a wink.
“Hey, hey!” Christie said as she poked him jokingly in the side,
“I’m Oprah to somebody.”
Kenneth playfully dodged Christie’s poking and pulled her back into a
“You know you are your daddy’s Oprah. You’re my superstar, baby
girl,” he said as he planted a long kiss on her forehead and started walking towards
the shed where the music, laughter, and glorious smells were coming from.
Christie loved her father and he undeniably loved her back. Looking at
the two of them was almost like seeing double but you would never get the two of
them to agree to that statement. Their skin resembled a perfectly toasted almond.
While Kenneth had a smile that could charm a rattlesnake, Christie had a sparkle
in her eye that would make that same rattlesnake blush. As a child, Christie would
stare at her handsome father for hours on end trying to find the similitude between
them. He was tall, a tad lanky and always kept a neat haircut. His piercing eyes
were light brown like small pools of honey that made you feel like he could see
straight through to a person’s soul in once glance. Yet Christie on the other hand,
was curvy without being overweight and of average height for a woman, yet not as
tall as her father. Her hazel eyes drew people into her every time. Still, in every
other way they were almost identical.
“You have my nose and my eye shape,” Kenneth said one day while Christie sat
Indian-style on the living room floor of his apartment playing with her Barbie
doll. She usually spent her weekends with her father, and whenever he addressed
her, she listened intensely to every word he said.
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