“If there’s really nothing wrong with her, then she should prove it.”
I looked slowly around the crowd. Friends from school, relatives, teachers, neighbors, and complete strangers were all watching, waiting to see what I would do. Twelve years earlier, I had made a promise to protect my sister from a truth she couldn’t remember. Now I understood that keeping that promise meant destroying both of us.
Without saying a word, I untied the belt around my cover-up.
My mother covered her mouth.
My father closed his eyes.
Then I slowly let the fabric fall to the ground.
A wave of horrified gasps swept across the backyard.
The left side of my body was covered in thick burn scars stretching from my shoulder across my chest, down my arm, and along my waist. Some had faded over the years, but many remained twisted and unmistakable, silent reminders of the fire that changed our lives forever.
