Instead, I found my sister sitting comfortably on the couch like she had never disappeared from our lives at all.
Vanessa always knew how to look polished no matter how chaotic her life became.
Her expensive handbag sat beside her on the cushion. Her nails were freshly done. Her hair looked effortless in the kind of way that probably cost money.
Meanwhile, my mother sat stiffly in her chair with the serious expression she used whenever she had already made a decision and expected everyone else to accept it.
“Your sister needs support right now,” she said before I could even speak.
I looked at Vanessa.
She smiled faintly.
Not guilty.
Not uncomfortable.
Certain.
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