Is The Glass Castle By Jeannette Walls A True Story?

“I’m pregnant too.” Sonia, my husband’s girlfriend said to me with a voice lifts with theatrical innocence. “Chase doesn’t know yet,” she continues casually. “I wanted to wait till the divorce is finalized. That way everyone will know I didn’t need to trap him with a baby… like you did.” There it is. The knife twist. Her eyes glitter with triumph as she walks out. I open my tote bag. The divorce agreement slides out easily. A thick stack of paper demanding my complete surrender of any claim to the Warren empire. In exchange for freedom. The woman who fractured herself trying to build a family out of dust is gone. I slide the signed documents into the top drawer of Chase’s desk. Let him find it. Let him choke on it.

After fifteen years away, I was finally brought back to the DeLuca family. I thought I was returning to my real home. Instead, I walked into a house where the adopted daughter wanted me dead, my father treated me like a burden, and my brothers would rather watch me bleed than make her cry. On my first day back, she set dogs on me. That night, I was dragged to the top of the observatory and forced to apologize to her. When I fell from the tower covered in blood, they still called me a liar. Because in the DeLuca family, I may have been the real daughter by blood— but she was the daughter they loved. She thought she could bully me, poison me, and freeze me to death without consequence. She was wrong. Because the night I nearly died, my mother finally chose me—and turned a gun on the whole DeLuca family.

I’m the real daughter. When I came back to my “real” family, the fake daughter never lost her place. She’s still the one they love. The one they protect. They even had me marry a disabled man for her. I agreed—for my own reasons. Thought that would be the end of it. But the second I married into that family, she changed her mind. Told me to get the hell out. Said I stole her husband. And then my husband realized something. I wasn’t the bride he was supposed to marry.

I mistook being wanted for being loved. It's an easy mistake when you've never had either. Roman gave me five years of broken glass, bruised wrists, and a soundproof bedroom. I stayed because leaving felt impossible. Because I had a son to protect. Because I thought love meant enduring. Then one day I ran. And the courtroom that was supposed to save me became another trap — because the lawyer I trusted had already been bought. Tired of it all, I decided if I couldn't be free, I wouldn't be at all. I decided to commit suicide. The worst part? The man who walked into that hospital room and saved my life is the same man I've spent five years trying to forget. The stranger from one reckless night. The father of my son. Damien Douglas. Brilliant surgeon. The only man who has ever looked at me like I was worth seeing. But there was a big problem; he was Roman's stepbrother. The deeper I fall into Damien's world, the more I realise my marriage to Roman was never about love or control. It was about keeping me from finding out who I really am. Who my father was. What was taken from me before I was old enough to know I had it. Roman's family destroyed my father and buried the truth. Now I have it back. Now it's my turn to bury the Douglas family, but will I bury Damien also?

In my previous life, the fake daughter Linda Veil wanted the billionaire family all to herself. She manipulated my adopted brother Jason with her two-faced act, sabotaging me at every turn. All I ever wanted was family. Instead, they came to despise me, and shipped me off to the African savannah to fend for myself. Before the plane even landed, Mom and Dad threw me out from low altitude, hatred written all over their faces. "Stay out there and learn your lesson. Let's see if you ever dare hurt your sister again!" "We'll come get you once you've straightened up." Both my legs shattered on impact. I lay in the grass, sobbing that I was sorry, begging them to believe me. But the sun cracked my skin open and wild animals stripped me to the bone. They never came back for me. Right before I died, I finally learned the truth. Sending me to the savannah had been Linda's idea all along. She'd spent three hundred million commissioning a lifelike robot to replace my dead body. Mom and Dad watched the cameras every day, seeing a lively, healthy "robot me" going about life. They had no idea I was already gone. And Linda? She married my adopted brother, poisoned my parents slowly, and inherited every last penny of the Veil fortune, handing it all to her human-trafficking birth parents. Then I opened my eyes again. I'd been reborn, back to the day the billionaire family first took me home. This time around, I'd worked ten jobs at once to survive and developed a serious mental illness. Whoever messed with me got the full crazy treatment.

Rumor had spread through the Vittori family that the daughter they had lost years ago had finally been found. The moment I heard, I left the family branch and rushed back to the main estate. My car had barely stopped when a young woman hurried over and grabbed my hand. “So you’re the Vittori family’s adopted daughter,” she said with a smile that looked painfully sincere. “Your dress is so beautiful. It must cost tens of thousands of dollars. You can tell you’ve never really had to worry about anything before. Unlike me. I grew up in places where even finding my next meal was a problem.” For a second, I didn’t understand what she meant. Then her eyes lowered to the only necklace around her neck. “This is the only thing I have from Mother,” she whispered. “Please don’t hate me for wearing it.” The next second, she suddenly grabbed my hand, dragged it up toward her throat, and yanked hard. The necklace snapped. Pearls scattered across the marble floor. “Why would you do that?” she cried, staring at me in shock. “If you hate seeing Mother’s gift on me, I’ll take it off right now. I won’t stay and make things difficult for you. Just please don’t tell Father and Mother. I don’t want them caught in the middle, and I don’t want this family fighting because of me.” She curled into herself on the marble floor, shaking as she cried, while the guests around us immediately turned to stare. I stood there completely stunned. I had imagined a thousand ways I might meet my daughter again. I never imagined she would look me in the eye, mistake me for someone else, and frame me before I had even spoken. Because I was not Valentina. I was her mother.