The General Didn’t Look At My Sister

for magazine photographs.

Appearances had always mattered more to my mother than truth.

I finally nodded once.

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is.”

She gently patted my sleeve as though rewarding a cooperative child.

“This evening belongs to Abigail.”

I watched her disappear back toward the center of the ballroom, where photographers continued capturing image continue reading …