Scarred by fate
I blurt, stepping back from her slightly manic expression.
“Happy birthday,” she says, loud enough that half the corridor looks over.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, genuinely blank.
Sienna blinks like I’ve insulted her ancestors. “Oh my god, Zahra. Today’s April 16th. It’s your birthday.”
“Oh. Right.” I manage a smile. Birthdays aren’t exactly a thing at my house. Sienna and Abby are the only ones who ever acknowledge it.
She starts singing, “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you,” and I clamp my hand over her mouth.
Bab Populer