The party went smoothly, and soon enough, it was time for dinner. I hadn't been sure if dinner was a good idea or not, what with Idina's eating disorder and all, but even though she was stressed (I know she had to be), she approached it all with a smile on her face. But just before my dad said the blessing over the food, he delivered a very small speech-type-thing.
Dad talked about Idina's bravery, how she'd gone two thousand miles away to beat a disease that was killing her. There was hardly a dry eye in the room as he praised my sister for her courage.
But then, he talked a bit about me. About what a "good sister Cassandra has been." About what I went through.
I blushed and looked at the floor. Everyone was still crying, but I didn't feel worthy of their tears or their attention. I should have appreciated what my dad was saying, but I'd become so accustomed to telling myself I didn't deserve to be recognized that I only felt guilt...