Grandma's Game Plan

Grandma's Game Plan

Gavin

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My name is Sarah Miller, and at twenty-two, my suburban New Jersey life felt like it was shrinking daily. The reason? Brenda Hayes, my father's "executive assistant," a title as flimsy as her tight dresses, who was steadily dismantling our family. She was younger than my mom, Carol, and my father, Rick, was completely under Brenda's spell, treating my kind, gentle mother like a faded photograph. I watched my mother's spirit dim, powerless, full of a quiet sadness that broke my heart. I saw the truth about Brenda and Rick' s affair, but my desperate protests only made my father angry and defensive, and earned me Brenda's chilling, venomous glare. One evening, driving home from my part-time library job, blinding headlights and screeching tires suddenly filled my vision. A monstrous crash. Pain, then utter darkness. My life, systematically destroyed by what I instinctively knew was Brenda' s work, became a body in a hospital bed, entangled in wires and tubes, in a persistent vegetative state. They called it a hit-and-run, convenient, but I was a prisoner in my own skull, aware of the injustice, burning with a helpless rage. Then, a flicker. I woke up. But it wasn' t my own body, nor was I in my sterile hospital room. My consciousness had inexplicably lodged itself inside my grandmother Esther' s body, recovering from a minor heart procedure in a different hospital. And when I saw the newspaper on the bedside table, a chilling realization hit me. The date was three months before my accident. I was in the past, in my grandmother' s aging body. This wasn't just impossible; it was a miraculous, terrifying chance. A chance to save my mother from her slow demise. A chance to stop Brenda Hayes before she could ruin everything. A cold, unyielding fury, sharpened by my previous helplessness, solidified within Esther' s frame. Brenda Hayes was finally going to pay, and this time, I had a plan.

Introduction

My name is Sarah Miller, and at twenty-two, my suburban New Jersey life felt like it was shrinking daily.

The reason? Brenda Hayes, my father's "executive assistant," a title as flimsy as her tight dresses, who was steadily dismantling our family.

She was younger than my mom, Carol, and my father, Rick, was completely under Brenda's spell, treating my kind, gentle mother like a faded photograph.

I watched my mother's spirit dim, powerless, full of a quiet sadness that broke my heart.

I saw the truth about Brenda and Rick' s affair, but my desperate protests only made my father angry and defensive, and earned me Brenda's chilling, venomous glare.

One evening, driving home from my part-time library job, blinding headlights and screeching tires suddenly filled my vision.

A monstrous crash. Pain, then utter darkness.

My life, systematically destroyed by what I instinctively knew was Brenda' s work, became a body in a hospital bed, entangled in wires and tubes, in a persistent vegetative state.

They called it a hit-and-run, convenient, but I was a prisoner in my own skull, aware of the injustice, burning with a helpless rage.

Then, a flicker.

I woke up.

But it wasn' t my own body, nor was I in my sterile hospital room.

My consciousness had inexplicably lodged itself inside my grandmother Esther' s body, recovering from a minor heart procedure in a different hospital.

And when I saw the newspaper on the bedside table, a chilling realization hit me.

The date was three months before my accident.

I was in the past, in my grandmother' s aging body.

This wasn't just impossible; it was a miraculous, terrifying chance.

A chance to save my mother from her slow demise.

A chance to stop Brenda Hayes before she could ruin everything.

A cold, unyielding fury, sharpened by my previous helplessness, solidified within Esther' s frame.

Brenda Hayes was finally going to pay, and this time, I had a plan.

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