One of my blogs is named after "the daughter I never had." She was a refugee of sorts and she threw my life under a bus to try to save her own. Genevieve was not her real name, though she told me she used it online for a time. Possibly only briefly and many years ago. I haven't heard from her in a long time. I don't know for sure what became of her, though my feeling is she's probably no longer alive. I am still alive and my life has yet to recover from those events, which is part of why I don't believe she is alive anymore. My life looks wholly unfixable and it's clear in my mind my relationship to Genevieve is a primary root cause of that fact. Genevieve was a MtF transgender youth who was horrifically abused as a child. I helped her escape her monied, connected abusers and then Genevieve burned me to try to protect herself. I don't think that's what she really wanted. My situation is complicated by the fact that Genevieve was good at hobnobbi