as my family arrived. My mother entered first, her expression already pinched with a practiced look of unimpressed critique. My father followed, carrying gift bags with a mechanical indifference, and my sister, Clare, trailed behind them with that specific, smug smile she wore whenever she intended to occupy the center of the room. Beside her was my seven-year-old niece, Olivia, who was wearing a princess dress almost identical to Norah’s, except hers was a vibrant, aggressive pink.
I watched the light in Norah’s eyes dim slightly as she looked from
