Built on a Fifteen Year Lie

Summary

When I was eight years old, my older sister pointed a finger at my face and told me I was adopted from a county shelter.

I ran to our parents in tears, begging them to tell me it wasn't true. Instead, they pulled Brittany into their arms, smoothed her hair, and nodded.

"She's right, honey," my mother said softly. "Your real parents didn't want you."

From that afternoon on, I stopped fighting my sister for second helpings. I stopped asking for new clothes.