AT MY SISTER’S WEDDING, SHE SMIRKED AND SAID, “GO FIND ANOTHER TABLE, ADOPTED GIRL”

cardigan. She heard the door and turned, and the breath went straight out of me, because looking at her was like looking into one of those carnival mirrors that ages your own face forty years.

Same nose. Same heavy-lidded eyes. Same chin I’d hated in every school photo because it was nobody else’s chin in that family.

“Rachel,” she said. Her voice cracked continue reading …