Sister, Sabotage, and the Stage

My sister’s scream split the air like shattering glass, the kind of sound that makes your bones brace before your brain can catch up. Three thousand faces turned toward me in a single, hungry wave, eyes bright with the promise of a public collapse. For most of my life, I would have given it to them. I would have shrunk, apologized, begged for forgiveness for some invisible crime of existing too loudly. But the envelope pressed hard against my ribs, its edges biting through my gown, reminded me why I was standing at all—every page inside a weapon, every notarized signature another nail in the cof… Continues…