Out of Their Perfect Picture
Language: en
Mom bought a new phone. Her lock screen was my older sister, Vanessa, posing in a pink ballet tutu; her home wallpaper was my younger brother, Ted, grinning as he palmed a basketball. There was no trace of me—the middle child wedged invisibly between them. At every family gathering, Mom would smile and nudge me out of the frame: "You’ve got the steadiest hands, Laurel. Take a nice picture of the three of us." I’d raise my camera and say sure, believing that as long as I was a good, quiet backdrop, there would come a day when I’d finally earn a spot in that frame. Until the night my…