Tara Westover

My strongest memory is not a memory. It’s something I imagined, then came to remember as if it had happened.

There’s a family not far from here,” Dad said. “They’re freedom fighters. They wouldn’t let the Government brainwash their kids in them public schools, so the Feds came after them.” Dad exhaled, long and slow. “

g about it was, “Next time, it could be us.”