She could tell by my every move that I felt guilty. Hiding in the pantry, crawling up every tier to reach that last jar of peanut butter. I’d already scarfed down the Oreos and half of the granola bars. My petrified smile looked like a milky way, cookie crumbs scattered throughout my adolescent chompers.

mortified… not I, but my mother.

And that made it even worse.

I was the junk food junky.