A week before Christmas, I was stunned when I heard my daughter say over the phone: “Just send all 8 kids over for Mom to watch, we’ll go on vacation and enjoy ourselves.” On the morning of the 23rd, I packed my things into the car and drove straight to the sea. I’m 67, a widow, and I live alone on a quiet street in the U.S., the kind with neat lawns, plastic reindeer on the porch, and neighbors who wave when they’re backing out their driveways. Around here, Christmas usually means a full house,

A week before Christmas, I was stunned when I heard my daughter say over the phone: “Just send all 8 kids over for Mom to watch, we’ll go on vacation and enjoy ourselves.” On the morning of the 23rd, I packed my things into the car and drove straight to the sea. I’m 67, a widow, and I live alone on a quiet street in the U.S., the kind with neat lawns, plastic reindeer on the porch, and neighbors who wave when they’re backing out their driveways. Around here, Christmas usually means a full house,

"I'm the 35-year-old ""Unbreakable CEO."" I thought all men just wanted my money. Then a homeless man knelt at my table, begging for my scraps. He wasn't for him. It was for the two starving twins strapped to his chest. What I did next, and the secret I uncovered, shattered my entire world. Tuesday night. Chicago. Rain. The kind of miserable, bone-chilling rain that defines the city in October. My name is Olivia Hartman. I’m 31 years old, and I am the self-made fashion mogul you’ve read about in