Laveau-Harvie maintains an emotional distance throughout, keeps actual horrors (her mother would occasionally starve her father) mostly out of view, and only refers to others by their family role of mother, father, sister, or uncle. With the hinted-at disownment and childhood traumas left untold, her explanation 'my past is... a blessing in disguise' leaves the reader wanting more. But that’s a minor flaw in an otherwise well-constructed, fluent memoir..