At the funeral of my father’s lawful wife, he brought home an illegitimate daughter.
The hall was draped in mourning white.
She alone wore pink and red.
My eldest sister’s murderous glare sent her cowering behind Father, her eyes brimming with helpless tears.
He took her hand and said fondly, “Don’t be afraid.
This is your eldest sister.
This will be your home from now on.
In a little while, I’ll bring your mother here too.”
Watching from the side, I laughed to myself.
Where did those two get the nerve?
My eldest sister had already lived this life once!