LBS

This is the first Chapter of my psychological thriller featuring the confession of a career politician who has chosen to detail the night she evolved from the weakest in her morally corrupt, wealthy family to the strongest. From the Office of Sen. Annalisa M. Blackburn-Moore Congratulations. And, I suppose, thank you. I’m not exactly sure why I am thanking you. I know that I should- that reading my story is an investment of your time and, after all, what is more precious than our time? I have learned that the hard way, but really, whoever learns when things are easy? Anyways, considering that sharing my story with you essentially clinches my own downfall all while launching your career into journalistic stardom… Let’s just say I’m much more comfortable offering you a congratulations over a “thanks.” Because one of two things are about to happen: The first obvious choice being that you may delete this story. Which is completely possible, you could be an idiot. From your recent publications I’ve gathered some level of intelligence, some turns of phrase and introspection that have- I’ll admit it- vaguely impressed me. But obviously you are aware we have never met, so really, I have no idea. Your intelligence could be limited to your ability to piece together clever phrases and descriptions- just as mine is relatively restricted to my ability to say what I know others want to hear, to make promises I have no idea or intent in keeping, and to maintain appearances no matter the cost. You could also delete this because you simply can’t believe that, I, Senator Annalisa Blackburn-Moore would ever reach out to you. That I, the pin-up and now poster-woman for the extremist political minority currently running our government (Oh, I know what my fans and supporters are, of course I do- I couldn’t manipulate them if I didn’t know exactly how to drive them into their frenzies) is directly contacting you when dozens of journalists from around the globe have strived and failed to bring me to my knees. It’s been fun really, watching these journalist hacks hunt down and shell out every half-baked and ill-conceived piece of gossip they could get their hands on, and three decades of such debacles have made me quite the professional at disputing such idiotic claims. (A few I’ve even started myself, spread through back channels of course. After all, it’s always good to have your name being whispered about- to be on the tip of everyone’s tongue. It’s like they say, there’s no such thing as bad press…but really, it’s so much more fun to dispute such ridiculous stories when you know you’ve started them yourself.) So, needless to say, I understand your hesitancy; that such a person as I would ever reach out directly to you- with your modest degree and even more modest living situation (of course I know all about you, even the simplest intern can run a background check) is unbelievable. But even with your professional media outlet backing it’s hard to imagine anyone would believe such a fallacious…such an unbelievable story… A story that not only details a crime of law but of family and of blood, and one that implicates more than just myself. That would be insane, right? Ha. Insanity I know, insanity I understand- it’s basically my job these days. So let me say with perfect understanding that you printing this would definitely be the perfect punctuation mark to my manic life. Of course, It would be ironic if you took this path- if you simply didn’t believe me and deleted all of this; if after all these years of my fighting the published falsehoods and after the half-dozen victories I’ve collected in courts against your prized media entities over their slander and libel…it all meant that when I finally came forward with my true crime, the real guilt that weighs down my heart and soul, that it wouldn’t be printed out of fear of it not being true. Perhaps that would be a case of ultimate justice, but then those I’ve harmed wouldn’t receive their justice, would they? So, I will hold out hope that you are as intelligent as I have taken you for, and that you will end up choosing the second option. That you do find a way to print this. That you share it with the world, and everyone learns that all that was whispered in the shadows about me…all that was wondered in fear…that all of it was true. Yes. I am not the perfect paragon I pretend to be. Obviously. Every saint has a past after all- and those of us working so hard to prove our goodness are almost always carrying the heaviest sins. What? You think your heroes don’t have a closet of skeletons? A backyard of bones? Grow up. So, I suppose my thanks truly is justified. Justified and necessary. I really should be thanking you- thanking everyone and everything that hasn’t pulled me down and buried me for what I’ve done already. I should probably thank this very page I’m writing on for not bursting into flames or spitting in my face as I sit and smear its innocence, destroy its state of tabula rasa with my filth. But I can’t let the truth be buried any longer. Why? Christ. I don’t know. Guilt, I guess. I’m sure there’s more to it, but honestly, I barely have the time to pen this so let’s just examine my motives later. Because I won’t be bogged down now by such pedantically moronic concerns- I couldn’t care less about why I am doing this; I just want it done. Besides, you won’t get the chance to ask me so let’s just leave it at that. You might think this is cowardly, and of course I realize that. But in many ways, I have played the coward (it’s a ridiculously successful strategy if you ever want to try it) and from where I stand what I’m doing is quite the contrary. In fact, I would say I’m being rather brave. Oh? You don’t agree? Well, consider where I’m coming from. I’m writing this confession to you, fully understanding that I’m ruining lives and reputations- my own included- But still, I do it. If that doesn’t make a person brave- what does? I suppose I should also make it clear that I do know I regret these events. I am sorry. But to be clear, I’m sorry that what happened, had to happen. That it came to be. Make no mistake, I stand by my actions. This isn’t a sorry similar to a, “I was careless and spilled my chianti on your designer dress.” It’s also not an, “I’m sorry for promising to help veterans with their healthcare options, but it ended up being against my interests.” No. This sorry is more like…. more like having to put down your champion jumper because she’s broken her leg. It’s tragic. She lies there, not knowing what’s about to happen- only confused and in pain. But you know what has to happen next. You know that there is no other option, that there is only one road to take and that this road ends with you staring down at the dead body of the horse you once loved. You hate that you have to walk this road, but you walk it, nonetheless. Because you must Because there is no other road. And what are you going to do? Sit down and cry? Again, I know your generation is emotional but come on- Grow up. That would be pointless. No, not only pointless. Weak. And I gave up being weak over thirty years ago. Are you surprised I’m sorry? Of course, I am, no one would wish for something like this to happen. No one wants to be responsible for the death of a family member. And in fact, I’m sorry for many things. I’m sorry I didn’t see what was happening. I’m sorry I didn’t put the pieces together until it was too late-until everything was as good as done and I was trapped. Well…I felt trapped. But I guess it’s the same- being trapped and feeling trapped. Or is it not? Is that what got me into this in the first place? Thinking that reality and threats were the same? Even writing this now I realize of course feeling trapped and being trapped aren’t the same. I was an idiot then and revisiting these memories must be making me more of an idiot now. What I do know is that I didn’t see it coming. I should have, but I didn’t. But back then I was never much good at seeing things. I’ve gotten better. This night changed me in that way. And as for the congratulations? Well, let’s just say I know you’ve had it out for me for a while. I’ve seen you, heard about you- digging through my past to find some dirty secret you can dredge up and fling at my face. Never doing so in the spotlight, or even in the daylight for that matter; I know you’re dying to find out what evil I’ve committed but know you haven’t the clout or capability of resurfacing all that on your own. You’ve failed so many times, just like your colleagues, and I’ve smiled at every one of these pathetic attempts by all your kind because only I know where my secrets are buried. And trust me, you’d never find them without my help. So here, let me show you where to dig. In fact, I’ve done the digging myself- like the archeologist of my own crimes I have unearthed, swept, examined, and catalogued them all for your enjoyment. Please, enjoy this tour of mine and my family’s crimes. Be sure not to touch and save all questions for the end. And maybe from my story you, and all your plebeian kind, will learn something about getting what is deserved. I supposed I should get on with this, I feel I am beginning to ramble. But one last thing, let me offer my word, let me make it clear, absolutely clear, that this story is completely true. Terrible and true. That this is how I remember that night exactly. This night is so often the subject of my dreams, a more dramatic person might say I am haunted by it. I would be lying if I said I still didn’t wake some mornings in horror; shocked I had a hand in it, that I was even there. So, I am not bragging when I tell you this account is quite detailed and precise- I am stating a fact. However, I will keep this story from my perspective throughout the telling, so you will never be tempted to forget that this is only my side- what I saw and experienced. Not that anyone can refute what I’ve said at this point, but so it goes. And as for proof, I supposed I will have to ask for your patience. Patience, patience, patience. So irritating, being told to be patient- isn’t it? I had to learn to be patient, and it was a lesson worth learning. Then again… I of all people understand the frustration of practicing patience with no promise of reward. So, I will make you a promise. I guarantee, I swear on everything I am and hold dear that by the end of this story you will know where the proof of my story lies. I am sure that, armed with this story and as long as you publish it for the world to see, no criminal official (even those crooked enough to be under my employ) will be able to stop you from retrieving it. In fact, if you intend to go after this proof, I highly recommend you spread this story as wide and far as you can beforehand. You wouldn’t want to try and go this alone- trust me. Many, many people have had their fortunes made or fattened by mine and my family’s string pulling. Many, many powerful people- who wouldn’t want me to fall. They wouldn’t want one of their greatest benefactors and power players to open this door into the sickly, nefarious world we manage just out of yours, and the publics’, reach. And I wouldn’t want you to disappear. (Not because I care about you of course, but because then all this effort of mine would be wasted…and I do so very much want this story out of my head…out of my heart…) But that’s enough of that for now. Story time. In fact, if you like, if you would rather just not be patient you can flip to the end and find the answer right now. Find where your proof lies. It will make the story less believable if you jump ahead, probably less interesting too but go ahead if you must. …I don’t think you will. After all, my tale isn’t long; it only spans one single evening… The last time my family, The Blackburn Family, would all be alive and well together under one roof. So, to summarize, do what you will with this story; print it and pursue the truth or delete it and pretend you never saw it. At least I will have tried… and isn’t that the best any of us can do? Oh, and one last thing of course… Just in case you are tempted to sympathize with this younger, more innocent, more stupid version of myself… Remember- I don’t want, or need, your forgiveness. That isn’t what my story is about. So. To be absolutely, perfectly crystal clear… Do. Not. Forgive me.

Astray is a psychological suspense novel featuring the story of a young woman who returns to Alaska to confront the family she believes to have abandoned her and to reopen the case of her mother's supposed death by overdose. Aurora blinked hard, squeezing her eyes tightly before squinting into the darkness of the poorly lit trailer she called home. The living room was a foreign blur, and while the ashtrays and open bottles of her mother’s party littered every surface around her, the only image she could pull into focus was the huddled mass on the stained and faded carpet. Mama. Daddy. Their heads so close and their limbs so intertwined that for a moment Aurora couldn’t tell where Mama ended and Daddy began. It was only by focusing on each limb, each feature that she was slowly able to make any sense of the jumble of bodies on the floor. Daddy’s thick arm was under Mama’s back, pulling her up from the carpet and one of his knees was between her long thin bare ones. But her legs were splayed and somehow not right- like the hair on Aurora’s dolls, these Mama legs were limp and dangling. One of Mama’s snow-white arms was thrown over her head, and Rion was running his hand over her wrist- his fingers pushing and prodding there for some reason Aurora couldn’t understand. She didn’t watch and wonder at Rion for long, as Daddy’s other hand reached up and pushed back the pieces of Mama’s long blonde hair that had spilled over her face and neck. She blinked again, confusion muddling her brain. A black, sticky looking substance was oozing out from the seam where Mama’s white-blonde hair met her even whiter skin. Aurora watched a black line, slither down over Mama’s open eye and down onto her cheek like a worm. Mama didn’t even blink. The glow of the orange light above flickered, and Aurora took a step back- bumping into Aly. Aurora felt Aly’s hands come up and hold her by the shoulders, her older sister steadying the small girls frame as they both began to shake. Daddy tried to wipe the black away, his thumb leaving a deep dark smear across Mama’s pale cheek as his voice boomed distantly in the background of Aurora’s awareness. Aly’s hands squeezed gently, then pulled Aurora back against Aly’s legs. Aurora leaned back heavily and felt her swimming head begin to settle. As more of the room came into focus, Aurora could see that there was a mess of the same black on the already-stained carpet. The overhead light flickered again. The smell of chemicals burning flooded Aurora’s nostrils and she shook her head at the assault of the acrid poison. She could smell again. The foul, thick odor sent Aurora’s stomach flipping and once more she tried to force her dizzying vision to settle. Daddy looked up at the exposed bulb above them, then looked to Aly. Aurora heard and felt Aly take a deep breath behind her- as if her older sister had just been shaken out of a nightmare, or had suddenly resurfaced after being underwater too long. Aurora brought her eyes back to Mama. What was the black stuff? And why was Mama just lying there? Why was she letting Daddy touch her and hold her when they’d been screaming and fighting just a second ago? Had it been a second ago? Aurora touched the place on the back of her head where the pain was throbbing from, she felt a strange squish- than a stone like knot on the back of her skull. Was that what was making her hurt? Mama opened her mouth suddenly, then closed it again- and everyone's faces snapped to watch what she would do next. Aurora swallowed hard and dropped her hand away from her head. She hated it when Mama and Daddy fought, when anyone fought really, but right now she wished with all her heart that Mama would stand up and get back to screaming at Daddy. Even hitting him would be better- anything would be better than this. With a jolt Aurora felt herself pulled up from the floor by her sister; Aly worked quickly, flipping Aurora towards her and pushing the little girls face into her chest. Aurora didn’t like it. She couldn’t see at all now. She needed to see. But the loss of her vision did something strange- the sounds of the room suddenly grew and grew until they were exploding all around her, as if they’d been coming down the slide at the playground, had lost control, and now slammed into her full force just like she would do with Mama on one of the good days. Daddy was talking to Mama, begging her to do something; Ryan was crying, the loud party music Mama liked was still screeching in the corner from the staticky boombox that everyone hated. Aly was talking too, her voice slightly raised and quaking, something about the hospital. It was all too much- the silence of the last several moments made the deep tones of Daddy’s voice boom like a firework against the trailer’s thin walls as Aurora heard him start to scream. “LILY! LILY-COME ON! WAKE UP! WAKE UP!!!” Her father's screams sent Aurora into a strange sort of panic, and the little girl began twisting and squirming as she tried to free herself from her older sister’s arms. Aly’s hand grabbed Aurora’s head by the hair, and with an almost painful amount of force pushed the younger sisters face back towards he chest. Aurora heard as Aly raised her voice, screaming at their father as she struggled to keep Aurora’s squirming body from escaping her grasp. “DAD! Stop! Stop shaking her! You need to get her to the hospital!” For a moment, Aurora heard nothing over the sounds of her own struggles, then Aly spoke again. “It’s ok, I’ve got Aurora…but you have to go! Now! She’s still bleeding!” There was a sick, sticky coughing sound. A retching, then a groan. Aurora knew those sounds, the sounds of the person she loved more than anything else in the world when she needed Aurora the most. Mama. Aurora fought harder, wrenching one small fist free to beat against her sister’s arm, shoulder, face, anything she could reach- but Aly didn’t let go. Instead she held on tighter, her voice rising again. “DAD! WAKE UP! YOU HAVE TO GET MOM TO THE HOSPITAL NOW!” Aurora froze mid-strike. She’d never heard Aly so loud before. Aly’s arms loosened as she felt Aurora go slack, and the teen whirled in place to face their older brother- who sat motionless on the filthy carpet against the trailer’s wall only a few feet from his parents. “RION! Snap out of it! You’ve got to help Dad!” The quick movement had given Aurora more freedom, and the little girl recognized her chance. Using all the strength in her frail body, Aurora wrenched her other arm free, reaching out to push against her sister’s chest with everything in her. It was easier than Aurora had prepared for, and somewhere Aurora recognized that not only was she stronger than she thought possible, but that her older sister could be weak. Still, Aly reacted quickly and twisted again, trying to shield Aurora away from the scene. But Aurora thrashed and angled her head until she could just see out of the corner of her eye… Aurora heard her sister pleading as she fought to restrain her. “No, Aurora! Stop! Just…please stop!" But it was too late. The light remained steady for once, but still all Aurora caught was a moment- a snapshot in time. But it was an image Aurora would carry her entire life. Daddy was walking towards with Mama in his arms- a limp bundle of white limbs and black blood matting her hair and staining her face and neck. Rion held Mama’s head up in his hands, his mouth and jaw set as he stared ahead as Daddy kicked open the opened the door and the full sunlight of the midnight sun flooded across Aurora’s family and their filthy, dingy home. The full light did something odd to her family and the scene that was unfolding before Aurora's eyes, somehow both slowing everyone’s movements while simultaneously propelling everyone forward in erratic jumps of time. Aurora tried to breathe, but the air stopped dead in her throat and she suddenly wished she had let Aly hide her away after all. The black…the black all over Mama’s face and chest and hair and neck and seeping down arms- The black that splotched Daddy’s face and neck, that was smeared over Rion’s hands and shirt- It wasn’t black at all. It was deep red, and in that moment Aurora realized what everyone else had known all along. The black was blood, Mama’s blood. Blood from Mama’s head and maybe her brain. Aurora turned away and pushed her face into Aly’s chest so hard she could feel the bones of her sister’s ribcage through the teenager’s impossibly thin nightshirt. Aurora tried to take a deep breath, but couldn’t- it felt like something was choking her. Another heaving attempt and Aurora’s stomach lurched, and she realized nothing was choking her, that something was surging up from inside her, and that her body was fighting to keep it all down. But she could only fight so much. Aurora was, after all, only six. The scream began low, somewhere deep and primal- making her insides roil and her stomach churn. She shut her eyes tight and bit down on her lip, holding the cry in and hoping that the painful sting of the stitches on her lip would somehow make the scream disappear. She needed to make pain- that was the best way to stop the crying, make so much pain there wasn’t room for tears was the best thing to do sometimes. Most of the time that worked, but this…Aurora immediately felt that this was too strong. Physical pain could not stop this pain she was feeling inside. This pain that wanted to scream itself out. The force of Aurora’s buried scream began to shake her body- she begin to twist and quake so violently she felt as if her bones would break against themselves. Aly felt the spasms and struggled to contain her little sister-not knowing what to do but holding on tight. “It’s going to be ok Aurora, it’s going to be alright. Daddy…He’s…” But Aly couldn’t say anymore, and it didn’t matter, because Aurora couldn’t hear her anyways. It was taking everything Aurora had to hold back the scream, the scream that she was sure would destroy her if it escaped. Another moment passed, Aly murmuring consolation into Aurora’s tangled hair as Daddy, Mama and Rion disappeared out of their dark trailer and out into the sunlight- as the sputtering sounds of the family’s truck started up in the woods just outside. The door slammed shut behind them and in that instant Aurora felt something else rising within her. The lights flickered once more and there was another lurch of her stomach, a wrenching…and then Aurora knew. She was going to be sick. Her tiny body heaved in Aly's arms, and Aly understood immediately. With a sharp twist, Aly turned from the trailer’s family room and ran straight down the short hallway - throwing open the door to their single tiny, dank bathroom and slamming up the toilet seat lid with a clatter that cracked the cheap plastic. Never letter go of her sister, Aly spun Aurora towards the toilet puling the girls white-blonde hair back from her face. Just in time for Aurora to retch the pathetic contents of her stomach into the waters of the yellowing bowl.

I am struggling with choosing which two of my books to work on for the conference so have done the assignments for both. Thank you! Story Statement: 1.) Rory (Aurora) is returning to Alaska to confront the family she believes abandoned her as a child and prove that her mother didn’t die of an overdose- that she was murdered by Rory’s father. Rory believes all her fatalistic flaws stem from this injustice and that by righting the wrongs of her past she will finally “fix” herself. 2.) Annalisa wants to stop being the lowest level family member in her wealthy, political family no matter the cost. The Antagonist: 1.) While the true antagonist is Rory's situation and her behavior, to Rory everyone is an antagonist. Rory’s ex, a married Senator who is also her boss and who recently ended their three year relationship as he is trying to make things work with his wife represents her failure. She continues to try and contact him despite his distance and her job and career are threatened by his behavior. Rory’s siblings and Father, who she “knows” are lying about what happened the night Rory’s Mother died of what they claim was an overdose. They are threats to Rory's purpose and are clearly trying to mislead her. And Rory’s grandmother- the overbearing, frail older woman who raised Rory (believing it to be a second chance after what happened with her own daughter) and who won’t leave Rory alone after she’s flown across the country. 2.) The antagonist is truly Annalisa’s father.- however later her siblings are revealed to also be antagonists. He is unnamed, known only as “Father"- a wealthy investor who inherited a monumental fortune from his own father who owned a logging business. His business decisions when he was young were foolhardy and he has lost over ⅓ of the funds he inherited, but once he got involved in politics and bribery he found more success in investments and currently has enormous stock in real estate. He is average height, somewhat heavy, and in his early seventies. He was once quite strong but, due to his lifestyle choices, his health is failing and he is now quite weak, which is why in Annalisa’s memories he was physically abusive with his hands but now he resorts to wearing boots (in order to kick his dogs) and slamming things that are expensive/easily shattered in order to terrify his children in the same way as physical violence once did. He has light blue eyes, dark hair, and a sallow/false tan complexion- the family has long lost roots in Italy and he considers himself Italian despite being less than 10% at this point and them having no actual Italian traditions (why all the girls have Italian names). He has dark hair that he dyes black- naturally it is turning a white/gray but he denies this and mocks his sons for their own sprouting gray hairs while claiming that his hair never went gray. His voice is deep and loud, and he uses it to speak over others- raising and lowering his voice at unpredictable intervals to keep everyone on their toes. He is fastidious about his hygiene and wears excessive cologne, but is a disgusting eater. He belittles his children and has his entire life, convincing them they are incapable of success without him which has crushed their self esteem and, as was the Father’s intention, many of his children are complete failures who have never tried to leave but accept the positions he has thrust upon them. In this way they have become dependent on him in many ways. His children who have left/found success have been sabotaged by their Father- for example during the eldest daughter’s divorce Father supported her unfaithful husband, actively working against her to prevent her from obtaining custody or alimony, then ensured she was fired from her work so that she had no choice but to move back in with Father and help take care of him- he sees this as a fitting punishment as to Father all people are tools for him to use as he sees fit, most especially his children. Breakout Title: 1.) Astray, Following Lily, Aurora Rising 2.) The Family that Lies Together, A Family Dinner, Try and Leave Comparables: 1.) The Great Alone/The Silent Patient 2.) Succession/The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo Core Wound/Primary Conflict/Hook Line: 1.) A young woman who lost her mother as a child and was adopted by her maternal grandmother returns to Alaska to confront the family she believes abandoned her and prove that her mother didn’t die of an overdose- that her mother was in fact murdered, and by the young woman’s father. 2.) A media famous career politician details the family dinner that changed her life- the night she entered her family home hoping to finally climb the warped social ladder her family lives on and accomplished this goal through betrayal, revenge, and choosing a side in murder. Other Matters of Conflict: 1.) Rory is in direct conflict with her grandmother, as her grandmother does not want her to be in Alaska and refuses to leave Rory alone. Rory is in conflict with the family she has just reunited with for several reasons- she believes she knows them to be lying about what happened the night Rory’s mother died, and Rory has convinced herself that because she has escaped Alaska and the poverty she associates with the location she is better than her siblings, and she is shocked to find that this is not the case. Rory is also the “other woman” in a relationship with a man (her boss) who has recently ended things- and when she discovers her own brother is struggling to heal his family after his own infidelity Rory is forced to confront the role she has played in another family’s life for the first time. (Secondary conflict) Rory responds to all of this conflict with reluctance and aggression in the beginning. After several days with her family she begins to relax but then her grandmother unexpectedly arrives and she is once again in conflict with everyone as she demands her grandmother be thrown out and her sister refuses. Rory’s continued denial of what has happened to her mother (that her mother was a drug addict and drug dealer) is made especially clear when she meets with the detective that worked her mother’s case and discovers that the memories that are resurfacing during her time in Alaska showcase a young Rory who didn’t understand the trauma of her surroundings- something adult Rory can see all too clearly. Rory is at first in shock, then tries to run, then attempts suicide only to change her mind when she realizes how her death would affect others- from the family she has just reconnected with to the people in the other car she almost crashes into. She grows from a selfish person consumed with “fixing” herself with self-cruelty and short-term vices to a woman who can empathize with others and see where mistakes become opportunities to grow and change. 2.) Annalisa is in direct conflict with her Father and every one of her siblings. Annalisa is the youngest sister and has always been considered unintelligent due to her kindness and general naivety (and admittedly her below average intellect). She had the least time with their mother and had little affection for the at times hysterical woman, and so has great respect and desperate love for her Father (as he was the only parent she ever really knew) but who she also resents and is repulsed by. Annalisa’s brothers are opposites, her older brother being arrogantly pompous (excessively masculine) and demeaning to her and her younger brother (closeted homosexual who has turned cruel due to repression by Father) is desperate to be away from the Father but, like all the Father’s children, he is dependent on his Father’s income and the lifestyle is afford. Annalisa’s sisters are very similar intellectually, although opposites physically, and are/were powerhouse in their chosen careers (law and higher education). By comparison Annalisa, who has never had a job outside of her part time work she does for her Father, can’t conceive a child and lives off of her husband’s income (who is also employed by the Father)- she is therefore considered a complete failure by everyone in her family. In the story Annalisa’s eldest sister, who was once the favorite, has recently been knocked down to the position of servant in the Father’s home and Annalisa takes great pleasure in establishing herself in this new conflict as above her sister after so many years of being looked down upon. A secondary conflict is that of Annalisa versus her husband, Derek. Derek and Annalisa are loving partners, but their dependence on Annalisa’s father for income and their interdependence and enmeshment with her siblings cause disagreements concerning what to divulge to each other and what to sacrifice. In the end, Annalisa realizes she cannot let Derek know all she has done because for him to love her in her evil action would be him approving of what she has done/corrupting him and she cannot allow that. She chooses to lie to him and while she is fairly confident he realizes the lie he chooses to go along with it and she chooses to pretend she doesn’t see his realization. Annalisa is equal parts terrified of and fascinated by conflict, as she was raised in it and sees it as an opportunity to learn and perhaps plot. Annalisa reacts to moments of outright conflict in the story at first with hesitancy (as she has no bearings for why her sister has returned and isn’t sure if her sister is an ally or foe) but as the night progresses Annalisa grows more and more confident- first telling off her husband, than her sister, and finally being the only sibling willing to wall up the murdered family members alongside her Father in exchange for her sisters baby. Annalisa views all conflict as an opportunity to rise above where she has been, and observes and tries to connect the dots of everyone’s behavior throughout the story. This hunger for conflict is clearly inherited from her Father and serves her well later in life when she begins a career in politics. Setting: 1.) Rory’s story being set in Alaska (in my hometown) serves as a constant reminder of how Rory thinks she knows things, when truly she has formed her own opinions without any basis in reality (foreshadowing her confidence in what happened to her mother vs. reality.) Rory’s return to Alaska showcases this difference between her expectations (her delusions) and reality. She imagines Alaska to be a snow buried land and her estranged family to be low class idiots, and instead she finds a large city and her siblings doing arguably better than her. The homes of Rory’s siblings showcase full lives- Christmas decorations and pets and children's cubbies and mugs collected from around the world- it is a stark contrast to the cold, sterile home Rory keeps. Rory is at first repulsed by the noise and mess as they are proof of chaos/imperfections, but eventually finds comfort in the ease of not having to be perfect all the time. The mountains she climbs with her sister are symbolic of the peaks and valleys of Rory’s own life and parallel her disagreements with her sister. When she learns that her mother was a drug addict, and that she is an illegitimate child to a man who has no interest in being a father to her, Rory isolates herself on a frozen, isolated mountain where she thinks no one will find her. When Rory returns to the valley and the trailer where she was raised, the bitter and harsh environment illuminates how far she has come and the true squalor she was living in, the harshness of the winter when she is there a clear indicator of the barrenness of her own life, and of how little she had as a child. Alaska is the perfect setting as the difficulty of living there is challenging but ultimately extremely rewarding and worth it, a lesson Rory learns about relationships and her own life. 2.) The setting for Annalisa’s story is a nondescript city- important as I want Annalisa’s political presence to not be contained by any specific state and to make evident how universal this family's deviousness truly is- where her family’s wealth and connections have given her father an exalted existence where he can afford to bribe for the life he wishes. The entire book exists in either Annalisa’s or her family’s home- Annalisa’s home a monument to consumption and unnecessary spending (the most expensive this and best upgrade that) and her father’s a modern gothic horror of blasé tastelessness with floor after floor of empty rooms and a winding cellar and basement that house everything from illegal documents waiting to be shredded to an enormous dog chamber to keep her father’s three untrained and abused show quality golden retrievers far and away from her father’s actual life. The house setting serves to showcase how trapped the characters are in their own family’s past- in the monument their father has built to himself. No one can escape, as several members of the family still live in the house itself, and others are to be buried within (or already are). In the end Annalisa confesses to still living in the house, even though she herself is now in her seventies and her father died decades ago. The guest rooms with no guests, the library with no books, the kitchen with no real food, all reinforce the story’s message of people without scruples, hearts or consciences who want to grow larger and more grand only for the sake of impressing and intimidating others and not for any real or moral purpose.