cnu-At my fortieth birthday party, my sister swung a baseball bat into…

Of all the things her body could have asked first.

“No,” I said, though I did not know. “And it does not matter.”

“I didn’t hit Brooklyn.”

“I know.”

“I just wanted my bike.”

“I know, baby.”

A tear slid down her temple into her hair.

“Am I bad?”

That broke me.

Not loudly. I did not sob. I could not afford to. But something inside my chest tore cleanly.

“No,” continue reading …