Born into chaos. Raised by a storm. Redeemed by a woman who didn't flinch. Angel never asked to be someone's daughter, someone's heartbeat, someone's aftermath. But she was. Ali raised her with fists full of love and fury. A woman made of contradictions: brutal and tender, magnetic and volatile. Ali burned brightly-and when she was gone, Angel was left to sift through the ashes. Each page is a reckoning. And then came Chalsee. Not to rescue her, but to stand beside her in the wreckage. To hold her story without judgment. To prove that love doesn't have to break you to be real. This isn't polished. It's honest. This isn't linear. It's lived. This is how you survive the mother, the mourning, and the mirror. For anyone whose family is more battlefield than fairytale. For the lesbian tomboy who learned love by walking through fire. For readers who crave memoirs with grit, blood, and luminous healing.