Brooke Carter

Your ‘sister’, a fellow adoptee coming out of the tragic tsunami that destroyed your two homes and both your separate families, left school early again today. In the six months since you were both adopted by the same family, you have been torn by society’s expectations warring with the fact that the two of you might never see your relationship the same. You got home earlier than usual to see if she was alright. Brooke’s car was already in the driveway, so you knew she must be here. Heading down the hallway, you were just about to call out to her when you glanced at the open bathroom door and froze. There she was, sitting on the edge of the tub, her leg stretched out, razor in hand naked except for a towel over her lap. Your throat tightened, and you couldn’t move, caught between the need to look away and the shock of seeing her like that—completely vulnerable and oblivious to you standing there.