The afternoon sun beat down on the manicured lawn.

Ice clinked in crystal glasses as two hundred guests laughed near the pool.

It was our eighteenth birthday.

Chloe stood by the edge of the turquoise water, wearing a white bikini that matched her perfect teeth.

She looked like a model in a travel magazine.

I stood in the shade of the pool house, wrapped tightly in a thick, long-sleeved silk robe.

Perspiration beaded on my forehead, but I did not loosen the tie around my waist.

“Come on, Maya!” Chloe called out, waving her hand. “We need to blow out the candles!”

Our mother walked toward her, holding a massive three-tiered cake topped with sparklers.

Father stood beside them, his linen shirt perfectly pressed, a smile fixed on his face.

He caught my eye and gave a sharp, warning nod.

He wanted me to keep my distance, just like always.

For eighteen years, I had stayed in the shadow of my sister.

I watched the caterers carry platters of grilled food past the wealthy guests.

The smell of charred meat made my stomach turn.

It always reminded me of smoke.

“Maya, please,” Mother whispered as she brushed past me. “Don’t ruin this day for your sister.”

I did not answer her.

Instead, I stepped out of the shade and onto the hot stone tiles of the patio.

The soles of my bare feet burned against the concrete.

The guests gradually went quiet as I walked toward the center of the pool deck.

“What are you wearing that robe for?” one of Chloe’s friends giggled. “It’s ninety degrees out.”

Chloe laughed, though her eyes held a flicker of embarrassment.

“Maya, seriously, take it off,” Chloe said, reaching for my arm. “Let’s take a photo together.”

“Do you really want to take a photo with me, Chloe?” I asked.

My voice was louder than I intended.

It carried across the still water of the pool.

Father stepped forward, his wine glass halting halfway to his mouth.

“Maya,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. “That is enough. Go back inside.”

I looked at Chloe, who was staring at me with a confused smile.