In the hospital room, I watched in horror as my sister yanked out her oxygen tube and

said, “Our older daughter has always been jealous.”

Older daughter. Not my name.

When a young officer asked if I wanted to respond, my mother laughed.

“She can barely sit up.”

I looked at him and said, “I want counsel present.”

My mother’s smile flickered.

Mara, lying in her bed with perfect eyeliner and a fake bruise she had rubbed into her own wrist, whispered,continue reading …