Their Perfect Lie, My Unseen Truth

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riosity and a hint of dread, softened instantly when she saw the calle

to the phone, turning away slightly, as if to shield

he familiar favoritism. Even now, with my dead b

I know it." Deborah's words were a comforting balm. "Just breathe, my love. Rememb

gh vulnerability to tug at my mother's heartstrings. Hope, the master manipulator. She

ed through the phone. "I thought... she said she might. It would mean so much to have her the

k in the solo spotlight, unchallenged, unburdened by my presence. She wanted to know I wou

ng to a sympathetic whisper, "and she probably thinks it's boring.

heart. It always ended the same way: with my mother's exasperat

replaced by a familiar sharpness. "She's just being difficult, as usual. Probably off with

ion crossing his face. "Fawn ghosted us again, didn't she?" he asked, not really a question. "T

Hope. For us. But she just can't bring herself to be a supportive sister. She's irresponsible

nsible? Ungrateful? I gave up a kidney for Hope! A part of my actual body, a par

softening once more for Hope. "Your father and I will handle Faw

om the phone. "Thank you, Mother. You

ant, already imagining Hope's beaming face on stage. She hu

. Trying to make excuses for Fawn, even when Fawn is being utterly ridiculous." S

nt, bitter laugh. I died.

e myself from the "Hood" legacy, but Deborah had been adamant. "A Bishop doesn't change her name casually, Fawn. You carry im

utiful, talented, perfect adopted daughter. The one who brought them pride, bat

ctral form, when you realize the "Jane Doe" is me, the "irresponsible,

my calls, if they hadn't been so consumed with Hope's recital and the

trouble. She had gotten my distress tex