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My brother, Michael Quinn, had his hands around my neck, eyes bloodshot as he snarled, "Why did you put mango in Edith's cake?" My mom, Linda, stormed over and slapped me hard across the face, calling me an ungrateful snake who was trying to murder the daughter she'd spent twenty years raising. My dad, Richard, watched us indifferently, and then called in a lawyer to disown me on the spot. They said there was no place in this family for a vicious monster like me. I figured they were right. So when that icy voice popped into my head, asking if I'd trade my death for a whole new life, I agreed without a second thought. At Edith Quinn's twentieth birthday party, with all the guests watching, I smiled and jumped off the rooftop. I gave them a gift that would last forever—my life. From that day forward, regret would be the only epitaph for the rest of their lives.