Frida

Stanley takes a sip of his water and straightens his back against the chair. “Our parents died when we were kids, so I took care of Rose as her guardian.”

I feel a pang of sympathy for Stanley. Losing your parents at a young age is hard enough, but having to shoulder the weight of raising a younger sister too? That’s a kind of strength not everyone has. My fork stills against my plate as I picture him, years younger, trying to be both brother and parent. “I’m sorry, ...