No Place in the Family Photo, I Reject This Home

The day I found the family portrait of the three of them, I was in the bathroom washing my sister's socks.

My wet palm slid across the photo. The date was fresh. Yesterday.

The girl in it had fair, pretty skin. Not a single mark of disfigurement.

After my sister was disfigured, our family had never taken another photo. By silent agreement she'd become the invisible one, the one you didn't show off.

Mom and Dad had tipped the scales of their love all onto my side. The nicer clothes, the expensive shoes—whatever I wanted, they never said no.