the birthday girl. My father encouraged the guests to admire Olivia’s accessories, and Clare laughed loudly at Olivia’s every spin, acting as though Norah were merely a shadow in her own celebration. I maintained a forced peace, moving through the motions of hosting—games, snacks, balloons—while sensing the underlying tension that always seemed to follow my family like a storm cloud.
Finally, the moment of the cake arrived. Norah hurried to the table, her cheeks glowing with renewed excitement as she stared at the five candles waiting to be lit. Her
