“I hate you,” my mother says. “I hate who you’ve become – this cold, heartless person. I don’t know why you act like this, but I hate it. I can’t be around you anymore.” “What happened?” I imagine myself asking, an edge to my voice. “What happened?! You fucking happened! You happened, goddamnit! What do you mean, you don’t know why I act like this? For the first sixteen years of my life, you berated me, taunted me, mocked...