MFM Minisode 450

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Bye-bye.

Hello

and welcome to my favorite murder.

The mini soad.

There you go.

Emails for you.

Bye you.

Bye.

Buy you.

Go first.

I demand you.

Go first.

I shall.

All your paperwork.

Okay.

The subject line of this email is hometown, the trash adult who took me on a drug run.

Okay.

You know, I'm going to pick one of those.

Of course.

These are my people.

Hi, Karen and Georgia.

I'm Lithuanian, so I don't know how to say all these sweet things people usually write at the beginning of this email,

but just know I love you both loads.

And now let's get into it.

Lithuanian.

I know, right?

Because I've got a prime trash adult story for you.

So, period.

Picture six-year-old me, six, bored out of my tiny mind in the dead heat of a small Lithuanian village summer.

You've been there a thousand times before.

Picturing it.

No friends around, no TV, no entertainment except for the occasional chicken.

That's great.

Yeah, that's tough.

I'm just chilling in the dust on the side of the road like a little feral villager when along comes her, our neighborhood's very own spiritual healer/slash drug dealer slash disaster on two legs.

Yes.

She was known for selling quote-unquote natural medicine, which is adorable because in hindsight, I'm 99% sure she was slinging low-grade narcotics.

She tells me she's heading to the far side of the village to do some business and asks if I want to come with her.

All caps.

And I said yes.

Hell yeah.

Because of course I did.

What else was I doing?

I had no sense of danger and way too much free time.

So off I go, six-year-old assistant to a probable drug mule, skipping through the village like we're in a whimsical Eastern European comedy.

Hours pass.

She does her house calls and I assist her as the unpaid intern.

I provide, I don't know, vibes, maybe an alibi.

And then just as we're finally heading back, I hear it, my name, screamed from every direction.

Oh no.

Like a haunted megaphone.

And that's when I knew I had fucked up.

Turns out I had been gone long enough for my grandma to declare a full-blown code red.

But did anyone call the police?

Of course not.

That would have been too logical.

Snitching.

No one snitches.

No way.

Instead, the entire able-bodied male population of the village was mobilized.

Forests were scoured.

Lakes were dove into.

Holy shit.

Men, and this is on all caps, men actually dove into the water looking for my tiny drowned body.

Then it says, fun side note, I was the kind of six-year-old who was allowed to go swimming alone.

So, like, fair.

It says, by the time I casually strolled home, my grandma was halfway through a heart attack.

They called an ambulance, but still not the police.

So she literally was halfway through a heart attack.

Oh.

Oh, literally.

They called an ambulance for the grandma.

For the grandma, but they didn't call the police.

My mom was on the verge of an emotional implosion, and the lake divers returned looking like war survivors i fully expected to be grounded until i turned 30.

my mother oh she handled it with grace which is to say she tried to rip out the trash adults hair with her bare hands while screaming so loudly i'm pretty sure the storks migrated early that year honestly iconic holy shit meanwhile i plopped myself on the couch and was handed dessert yes because they thought she was gone yeah because apparently when a child disappears for hours with a stranger the appropriate reward is pudding.

And the best part, I didn't learn my lesson.

Not even a little.

Two weeks later, all caps.

Same woman, same scenario, same kid, me.

And this time, she didn't even bother pretending to ask permission.

She just took me under her arm and off we went on another totally illegal adventure.

She had the perfect cover, a six-year-old.

Yeah.

She just looks like a kindly aunt.

Yeah, I'm an auntie.

Yeah.

Not a drug mule.

Stay sexy and seriously don't take someone else's kid on your rural drug errands.

Laura from Lithuania, where the police don't get called when a child vanishes for hours, but a mob of men will absolutely dive into freezing lakes without hesitation.

What a perfect picture of a time and place, Laura.

You did, that was excellent.

It's everything we need to know about Lithuania.

Everything.

Yeah.

That was amazing.

You don't call the cops.

Men will do what it takes.

And it reminds me like when you were little and you did something all the time and then one time you did it and it wasn't okay.

Yes.

And then you got in trouble for it, but it had never not been okay for you to stay out late or to do any like to play with this or that.

And then suddenly your mom decides that you're not supposed to do that and you're in trouble.

Yeah, there's a rule that you were not told that somehow comes up and it's like, oh, we weren't paying attention before that you've been doing this the whole time.

This is what my anxiety is based on is that I'm going to get in trouble for doing something I didn't know I wasn't supposed to do.

Yeah.

That sticks.

Yeah.

Okay.

My trash uncle story.

Great.

Two to three minute read.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Hey, friends, long time listener and have wanted to send this story in for a long while now and finally got the guts to do it.

So let's get started.

Long story short, my uncle ended up being a part of a bank robbery.

Hey, that's a long story short.

He and a few other guys robbed a CCU bank and thought they could get away with it.

Spoiler alert, they ended up getting caught.

But let me tell you how my uncle got caught.

So me, five years old at the time, my mom, dad, and uncle were actually on the way to turn him in.

A decision he made.

Okay.

But ended up stopping at Walmart to get him some clothes for whenever he got out of prison.

I don't know.

That seems like you're doing it on purpose.

Can I just get a couple things really quick?

You have a few years to pick something, probably.

Yeah.

You know, now this was years ago when Walmart still had banks in them.

Oh.

The security guard at the bank recognized my uncle immediately because his picture got sent to every bank in the area.

And before the guard could tackle him or confront him, my uncle grabbed me and held me as we walked out so the guard wouldn't touch him.

Yes, Yes, my uncle used me as a shield when I was all caps five.

Human shield, five-year-old.

This is the aunt and uncle episode.

Once we got in the car, we were heading to turn my uncle in, but since the security guard saw him, he notified the police.

And next thing I know, we're getting pulled over by at least 10 cops.

Oh, shit.

Now, me being five years old, you know, that security guard was like so stoked to be the hero of the day.

Yeah.

So boring, his job.

And then

suddenly he's like a fucking bank robber.

I have this to give.

Yeah.

Now, me being five years old, I thought that any of the times I would misbehave or would hit my older sister meant I was in big trouble because when the cop came up and stuck a gun into the front passenger side window yelling, everyone put your hands in the air, my hands immediately went up, terrified that I was going to jail.

These little hands in the back kind of sliding up.

Tiny little, oh, this is it.

I knew it was coming.

Yeah, I shouldn't have been a human shield that way.

I shouldn't have hit my sister.

She deserved it.

I immediately started crying while watching my uncle get yanked out of the car and onto the the ground.

And for some reason, they did the same to my dad.

Yeah, that makes sense.

Yeah.

I was just sitting in the back with my hands up, regretting all the times I didn't listen to my mom and scared that the cops were there to take me to jail.

The idea that they're just like gun in the car scream,

whatever.

Yeah.

I don't remember much after that, but I do remember my mom getting me into the back of a police car trying to calm me down and then the cop coming up and apologizing to me.

You better.

My uncle did go to jail and has served 16 years.

Wow.

That Walmart run could have waited.

I mean,

also just the bank.

The idea of a bank robbery, it never works out.

It's never going to work.

Almost never.

Scheduled to be released any day now.

Wish me luck, smiley face.

Also, fun fact, this bank robbery is known as the first one to occur in my hometown.

Wow.

Hope you all enjoyed this and got a good laugh at some of my trauma.

Stay sexy and maybe don't use a five-year-old as protection.

Yeah.

Haley.

Haley, we respect your trauma.

Yeah.

It's TV movie of the week trauma.

And the fact that you shared it with us means, I think, that it might be a lowercase T trauma for you at this point, maybe.

Oh, yeah.

Being able to process it.

Don't share your like uppercase T trauma until it's lowercase T trauma.

I mean, just that it feels like as awful as that would be.

It's a great story.

Maybe she can laugh at it now.

Yeah.

We definitely can.

We don't.

We don't want to if we shouldn't.

It's so insane.

Also, just if if you're going to go drop someone off at prison, maybe get a babysitter.

Get a babysitter?

Get a babysitter.

That's a great idea.

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He never thought he was going to get caught.

And I just looked at my computer screen.

I was just like, ah, gotcha.

This technology is already solving so many cases.

Listen to America's Crime Lab on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.

I'm not going to read you the subject line of this.

It says, Hi, Karen in Georgia.

I've been listening to you guys since 2018.

I was 16.

Oh my God.

Welcome.

Sophomores, welcome, always.

When my sister introduced me to you as a repayment, I got her tickets to the MFM live tour in Austin this September.

Yes.

You guys are great and can always keep me entertained when driving or folding laundry.

Hey, hey, that's us, baby.

Hey.

Anyway, let's get into my hometown's pedophile story.

I attended Lake Travis High School, which is about a 30-minute drive from downtown Austin, Texas.

This meant our school was very large.

I'm talking about each graduating class of eight to 900 people per year.

Wow.

That's wild.

Yeah.

When I was a freshman, around 15 years old, my friends and I would sneak out and get into the normal teenage trouble, drinking, smoking, vaping.

alcohol is hard to get as a 15 year old obviously so when a man who was around 30 years old started adding us kids on snapchat under the name the lottery and selling bottles of alcohol to be delivered we were ecstatic oh my this is what every parent warns every kid about and they don't listen.

No, because as a teen who's like, I just want to party and I'm invincible.

And I don't know what the fuck is going on in the world or what the possibilities are.

Oh my God.

It's like the lottery wants to help us.

The lotter would charge outrageous prices for handles of alcohol, of course, the cheapest stuff he could find, and jewels, the vapence,

but

like name-checking a vapent.

But us kids didn't care.

We would all sneak out to a friend's house whose parents were chill and text the lotter what we wanted for the night.

Oh my god.

He would then drive to our address, which we gave him without a second thought, of course, and trade the cash for the goods.

He got to know my friend group so well, he would even give us free fast food regularly.

Oh my god.

This man would drive around at night and give alcohol and vapes to hundreds of high schoolers.

Holy shit.

And since everyone used him, we didn't see the harm.

That was until one afternoon when my friends and I were in school like normal and we got a text that the lauder, L-O-T-E-R, I guess like parking lot.

I don't know.

Yeah, yeah.

The lauder was arrested.

Everyone who used him freaked out and deleted his contact, hoping the cops didn't see any of our information on his phone.

We all thought he'd been caught for selling illegal products to underage minors.

Nope.

A few weeks later, we see a news article about the Lauder's arrest and it turns out that he was exchanging alcohol and vapes for sexual favors from 15-year-old boys and sending/slash asking for sexual pictures.

His case ended up being investigated by the FBI and in 2021, he received six years in prison for sexual exploitation of a child, followed by 10 years of supervised release, and he was also ordered to pay restitution to his victims.

I am now 22, and my friends, and I occasionally recall how stupid we were to trust a random man who sells things to kids.

Sorry, mom, that's Stranger Danger 101.

I mean, you couldn't get more on the nose.

I'm so relieved she hadn't started listening to my favorite murderer yet because, oh, we weren't doing our job if she was doing that.

I mean, that's 13.

We let her down if she thought that that was okay.

Yeah.

Yeah, hopefully when she logged on and then was like, oh, they're yelling at me.

What's this?

What's this?

I shouldn't follow a strange man around a parking lot.

Oh, God.

And then it just says, can't wait to see you guys in September.

Stay sexy and don't buy alcohol from strangers.

Lily, hey, Lily, that's how bars work.

So you better figure something else out.

Every time we hear those stories, just my youth, my adolescence just flashes through my mind.

And I'm just.

Can't believe I'm here.

I know.

I'm so happy about it.

I've told you this story, but like we found a guy in the Golden Eagle shopping center parking lot and kids from the other high school, like, were walking away, and they're like, Hey, those guys will buy up for you.

And we walk up to the, it was a station wagon that was like, it looked like all the tires were flat, so it was way close to the ground.

Yeah.

And it was two guys that looked like they were from Scumbag Central Casting.

Yeah.

And they were just like, yo, what do you want?

And we're like, can we get a strawberry cooler?

It was like we were doing very specific orders and they just drove away with our money.

Yeah, that same thing happened.

He was like, okay, we're going to put the bag next to the car and we're going to drive away.

So don't go to the bag until we drive away.

So like, in case anyone's watching puts the bag down drives away and then i watch my friend walk up and kick the empty bag in anger stole like beer funds food all got on beer funds together hundreds of dollars oh my god i mean okay yeah

buried bones helped me find proof of my dad's lore oh buried bones a podcast on the exactly right network that's right quarrel holes and kate winkler dawson that's right oh hey all of our dads have told us when we were little that if they told us something they would have to kill us right sure that old joke no just me and my sisters?

Well, from a young age, we all knew my dad, Ronald, had been in the Army, but definitely was not anymore.

When we would ask what he did in the Army, he would always tell us, if I told you, I would have to kill you.

Of course, as little kids, we thought it was hilarious.

When we got older, he finally told us what really happened.

Picture it.

It's Chicago 1968, and the Democratic Party Convention is causing a lot of chaos in the city.

There were rallies and riots and a lot happening outside the convention that had been well documented over the years.

Yes, it's a famous event.

My dad, though, he was involved with monitoring what was happening inside the convention and the like.

You may be asking yourself why that's a big deal.

Well, the Army Security Agency was tapping the phones of delegates, candidates, and others in the streets, listening in for any information they could about plans for rioting, clandestine connections with communist-affiliated groups, et cetera.

They would have vans driving around the city, a lot of times in areas that was pretty much off-limits to the military, that were decked out with radio receivers that monitored police radio, telephone communications, and shortwave radio transmissions.

I mean, it kind of sounds like a paranoid conspiracy theory, but it's like we are being monitored at all times.

Yeah, it's true.

They were operating without the knowledge or assistance of the Chicago police, FBI, or other law enforcement intelligent agencies.

It's just the Army going solo rogue.

Finding out some stuff they need to find out.

I guess so.

All of this information came in, but never went back out.

If it had, they would have needed to answer questions on how they got that information.

and what they were doing was definitely bordering on going against the Constitution.

Hmm, sounds familiar.

I think you could border going against the Constitution.

Goes right up against it.

My dad voiced his concerns about this and other things he was privy to while working in Army intelligence to his superiors and was basically told to sit down and shut up.

That didn't sit right with my dad, so he went AWOL to Canada.

Oh.

Toronto specifically.

That's where he gave a series of interviews to the Toronto Star.

It was supposed to be four different installments, but only one ever got printed.

Over the years, it's been brought up here and there, but two years ago, I really started looking in earnest for this article that I knew would be hard to find.

It also didn't help that my dad couldn't remember the exact year it came out, and it says 1970, or even the exact newspaper it was in.

Dad's.

Dad's.

This is where Buried Bones enters the chat.

Back in June on my way to work, I was listening to an episode and I heard Kate talking about how she loved to use newspapers.com to help with her historical research.

Cut to me signing up for the seven-day free trial and searching my father's name and newspapers in Canada, and it popped right up.

I took a screenshot of it and sent it to my dad.

This was his response.

Quote, the ghosts of the past come back.

What happened next killed the series.

The government contacted the owners of the Toronto Star and threatened them if they didn't kill the stories.

By the third edition of the Sunday paper, it was off the front page and disappeared.

Your dad really tried to do something, but it wasn't until Edward Snowden, many years later, that got the job done.

Oh my God.

The only good thing that came out of it all was when I did return, they were afraid to make a big deal of it, and I ended up with a relatively easy sentence.

End quote.

Whoa.

For Father's Day this year, I had the images of the article blown up to poster size and framed for him, and now they hang in the only place in the house where they would fit.

The rumpus type room in the basement where he spends a good amount of his time.

This thing holds a lot of meaning to him because he felt like he was doing something good and he was just erased from history.

This is just one part of my dad's lore that would make a really interesting autobiography we keep telling him he has to write.

I know this is long, but thanks to whoever over there that took the time to read it, even if it doesn't make it to the podcast, stay sexy and always try to do what's right, even if the story gets killed.

Hava.

Yes, pronounced like the song Hava Nagila and one of the daughters from Fiddler on the Roof.

No, I was not named after either.

What an incredible thing to have a dad as a whistleblower who's trying to be like, hey, the government might be doing the wrong thing for the people.

Yeah, your dad has like a backbone.

Yeah.

That's nice.

That's tough.

There's more to San Francisco with the Chronicle.

More to experience and to explore.

Knowing San Francisco is our passion.

Discover more at sfchronicle.com.

Every case that is a cold case that has DNA right now in a backlog will be identified in our lifetime.

On the new podcast, America's Crime Lab, every case has a story to tell, and the DNA holds the truth.

He never thought he was going to get caught, and I just looked at my computer screen.

I was just like, ah, gotcha.

This technology is already solving so many cases.

Listen to America's Crime Lab on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.

Let's take a real left turn right now.

The subject line of this email is Colin Farrell Spotting in Intercourse, Pennsylvania.

Hello, MFM crew.

Love you lots.

Longtime listener.

Thanks to my two older sisters who saw you live in Philly.

And then it says dot dot dot without me.

Dot dot dot.

But that's beside the point.

Let's get into it.

I live just outside of Philadelphia, and every summer when my cousins would fly into town, my nan would take us all out to Amish Country, Lancaster, Pennsylvania, to see some horse and buggies, gawk at the Amish families, and buy tons of homemade goods.

Our favorite place to visit was called Kitchen Kettle Village in Intercourse, PA.

I shit you not, that's the name of the town.

I had a t-shirt in the 90s and it was all the weird Pennsylvania towns.

There's like blue balls and intercourse and it's a horny state.

It just is.

It seems wrong to name a town whose population consists mostly of Amish, something vulgar, but who am I to say?

Anywho, Kitchen Kettle has a ton of little shops with various goods like jams, quilts, and pottery.

On this particular visit, I remember it being extremely hot, and most of us kids were pretty done with the visit after the first two stores.

My nan, who has always been stubborn and persistent, refused to leave without going into her favorite store at the very end of the village.

Me being the youngest and never really having a say.

God, isn't that the truth?

Had to go into the store with her while everyone else waited outside.

As we're walking around the store, I'm begging my Nan to hurry up in any way I can, when all of a sudden, I see a tall, dark-haired man with bushy eyebrows and the most chiseled jawline.

At this point in my life, I'm not sure I'd seen a Colin Farrell movie, but just by his look, I knew he was famous.

I mean, talk about it factor.

Totally.

That guy.

I'm telling you, I just, I felt him coming when I was at the movie theater at the same time as him.

I quickly ran out the door and screamed at my, and screamed at my sister, there's a celebrity in here, but I don't know his name.

I have to give it to my sister for actually believing me and running in to check it out.

Believe women and children.

My sister has always been a pop culture whiz, so she pinned it down right away.

She knew it was Colin Farrell.

We're trying to keep our cool, but we're also young, so we probably were doing the exact opposite.

And we've taken a full 180 and are trying to get my nan to stay as long as possible in the store.

Her being totally clueless to Colin Farrell's existence mentions that she wants to go upstairs to see the music boxes.

As we're climbing up the stairs, we can hear the girl with Colin Farrell say, I'm ready to leave.

To which Colin Farrell says, I think I want to check out those music boxes upstairs.

My sister and I could have died, and I don't even really remember what happened after that.

Eventually, we went to tell our family the news.

My uncle's first reaction being, was he wearing jeans?

Why, I don't know.

That was just my uncle being my uncle.

Was he wearing jeans?

That is such an uncle question.

Oh, wait.

Was he wearing jeans?

Yeah, he was that one guy wearing jeans among all the rest.

Back in Pennsylvania, of all places.

I think we eventually learned that he was filming nearby for a movie, and that's why he was in the area.

Till this day, whenever Colin Farrell is brought up in conversation, it is always quickly followed up with, was he wearing jeans?

Anyway, thank you so much for all you guys do.

Thank you.

You've made countless road trips and days in the office more enjoyable.

Stay sexy and don't forget to keep an eye out for Colin Farrell, even in the middle of nowhere, Jackie.

That's so exciting.

I'm so excited.

Colin is

we have to get a photo with him now.

Colin Farrell?

Yeah, if we see him in LA.

Here would be my approach.

Yeah.

I would try to get physically lower and just be like, my grandparents are from Ireland.

Okay, I'm not sure.

And I play on that kind of like

Ireland town thing.

Okay.

My podcast is a fan of yours.

Yes, there you go.

You can come with the thing that's very effective on people where you say, I'm not a fan.

Right.

But my friend Karen.

Someone else will be jealous.

Yeah.

So could you please?

Okay, my last one is hometown prank calls orthodontists.

I'm not going to read you the whole thing at the end.

Okay.

Georgia.

A half subject line.

Okay.

That's new.

Karen, Georgia et al.

I'm not sure what hometown category this story fits.

Prank calls, awkward adolescence, whatever it is, it's got everything and you've asked for literally anything.

Very true.

So I was 12.

It was summertime and my friends and I spent every moment together or on the phone for hours, days, maybe weeks.

My parents were at work.

MPV was playing Jeremy by Pearl Jam.

I remember that summer.

You know, the feel-good hit of the summer.

And I was deep in a three-hour phone call with my best friend, Brooke.

At some point, I started complaining about my upcoming orthodontist appointment.

I was about to get braces and the dramatics were high.

Eventually, we decided to hang up, eat lunch, and call each other back in a bit.

Fuck, I remember that.

It's so funny.

I remember being on the phone with friends for hours.

And just earlier, my like favorite person, my best friend, Kate, called me and I didn't answer the phone.

It's a different thing now.

And also, you'd be on the phone for hours.

And then like at our house, my dad would just be like, get off the phone.

You just hear get off the phone yelled randomly.

Always.

Yeah.

Seconds after I hung up, the phone rang.

I picked up and a woman's voice said, orthodontist office calling to confirm Megan's appointment.

Naturally, I assumed it was Brooke using her extremely convincing adult voice to prank me.

So I leaned into it and said in my most serious tone, Megan is dead.

Oh.

There was a pause, but not the haha, you got me kind of pause.

It was very long, very awkward, very adult silence.

Then the woman whispered, oh, I'm so sorry, and hung up.

Immediately, I called Brooke to confirm it was her, but she swore it wasn't.

That's when it hit me.

I had just told a real medical professional that I was dead.

I knew I was in deep trouble, but I also knew the only way out was to deny everything and hope for the best.

Why?

Just call that poor woman, let her off the hook.

That evening, the orthodontist himself called the house because she was like crying, right?

And she's like, I was like, why are you crying?

Well, what are your patients horrible child he asked to speak with my mom i listened from the next room and she assured him i was in fact very much alive and standing right there after she hung up she asked if anyone had called to confirm my appointment earlier in the day i lied like a pro nope i was on the phone with brooke all day she believed me no idea but she dropped it and we never spoke of it again oh i would have gotten in so much trouble.

And nothing like that ever happened at our house.

It'd be like, ask three more questions and you're busted and it's over.

When we showed up for my braces fitting later that week, I was very aware of the side eyes and whispers from the front desk.

My mom let out some nervous laughter while checking me in, and I just tried to disappear into my seat.

To be fair, Dr.

Goldstein and his team were incredibly kind throughout my orthodontic journey.

And honestly, I've always felt guilty about giving them a heart attack that day.

As an adult, I realized how brutal that phone call must have been.

Horrible.

Preparing to offer condolences to the grieving mother of a 12-year-old girl who was just watching MTV and eating a lunchable.

Is she me?

So, yeah, sorry, Dr.

Goldstein.

Stay sexy and don't fake your own death.

Megan, she, her.

Megan, that's so epic.

But also, it's just the funniest thing of like the shortest distance between the end of that mistake

is just going immediately call that lady back.

And I'm like, I'm so sorry.

I thought you were my friend, Frankie.

Like, there's no minus to that.

That lady be like, oh, thank God.

Yeah.

But, like, she gave her the whole day to, and then the doctor called to offer his condolences.

Oh,

wow.

What a horrible phone call at that.

Megan, you're a horrible person, and we love you.

We and we couldn't be happier that you listened to our podcast.

You're right where you belong.

Welcome.

Welcome to the pod.

Way to go, everyone.

Thanks for sending us your emails.

Send them to my favorite murder at Gmail.

And stay sexy.

And don't get murdered.

Good.

Goodbye.

Elvis, do you want a cookie?

This This has been an Exactly Right Production.

Our senior producers are Alejandra Keck and Molly Smith.

Our editor is Aristotle Aceveda.

This episode was mixed by Liana Spolachi.

Email your hometowns to myfavorate murder at gmail.com.

And follow the show on Instagram at MyFavoriteMurder.

Listen to MyFavorite Murder on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.

And now you can watch us on Exactly Right's YouTube page.

And while you're there, please like and subscribe.

Goodbye.

Bye-bye.

Betrayal Weekly is back for season two with brand new stories.

The detective comes driving up fast and just like screeches right in the parking lot.

I swear I'm not crazy, but I think he poisoned me.

I feel trapped.

My breathing changes.

I realize, wow, like he is not a mentor.

He's pretty much a monster.

But these aren't just stories of destruction, they're stories of survival.

I'm going to tell my story and I'm going to hold my head up.

Listen to Betrayal Weekly on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.

We're siblings, like you fight, you disagree.

It's really hard to be in a judge.

You judge each other.

You lead differently.

And we've gotten to that edge.

Hey, I'm Simone Boyce, host of The Bright Side.

And this week I'm joined by Hollywood Power Sisters, Erin and Sarah Foster.

They're getting real about boundaries, rejection, plus what's next for their hit Netflix series, Nobody Wants This.

Listen to the bright side on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.

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