The memory doesn’t hurt anymore. It’s almost as if it happened to somebody else.

“There was an event, a wedding or something, I guess. I had nothing to wear, so I stole my sister’s overalls. She was really young then, so they were a tight fit. A very tight fit.”

My smile fades as the memory of being taunted returns to me.

“They were cruel,” I whisper, my laughter long gone. “And—And Clyde and that friend of his, Droga, they cornered me and cut the straps.”

I lower my head, ...