told you all there was never anything wrong with her.”

Several of her friends laughed while others looked at me with curious expressions. My parents, however, had gone completely pale.

My mother hurried toward me, panic filling her voice.

“Maya… sweetheart… you don’t have to do this.”

I gently squeezed her hand.

“Yes, Mom.”

“I do.”

My father looked from me to Chloe, desperately searching for a way to stop what was happening. “Please,” he said quietly. “Let’s go inside and talk first.”

Chloe folded her arms with obvious frustration.

“No.”

“She’s been hiding long enough.”

“If she’s healthy enough to stand here, she’s healthy enough to stop acting like she’s made of glass.”

The backyard slowly grew quieter as guests sensed the growing tension. Even the music seemed to fade into the background while more and more people turned toward our family.

Chloe walked over carrying a microphone the