I Arrived At My Sister’s Wedding And She Tried To Hide Me

in one fist. “Everywhere we went, people looked at you first. Every room. Every conversation. It was always the fire, the fire, the fire. I was the one who was supposed to be dead and somehow I disappeared anyway.”

Mean.

Honest, though.

I sat with that.

Then I said, “And whose fault was that?”

She had no answer.

Because it wasn’t mine.

Our parents built that continue reading …