The birthday party was supposed to prove that Rachel was doing just fine. That was the part nobody said aloud. There would be balloons, a carefully decorated cake, matching plates, photographs of smiling children, and enough food spread across my kitchen counter to make everything look effortless. Rachel loved effortless. What nobody saw was how much effort usually belonged to me. For years, I had been the invisible machinery behind my sister’s life. I watched her boys when plans changed. I drove them places when she was busy. I bought groceries when money was suddenly…
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