The Older Sisters’ Makeover Plan

Two Heroines

When I was ten, my mother took me to live with my stepfather.

His two daughters stood on the stairs, one as cold as ice, the other smiling brightly.

Knowing I was a burden to them, I took on all the housework, hoping they wouldn’t kick me out.

But they said, “You’re only ten. You don’t have to act so grown-up.”

From that day on, they made a plan to help me grow: nutritious meals, exercise schedules, and tutoring. They nurtured me as carefully as a little sapling.

I grew as fast as I could, getting taller and better-looking with each passing year.

Girls at school began giving me love letters. My second sister tapped me on the nose and said:

“Are those little girls prettier than your sister?” I shook my head. “Good. Don’t let them make you lose your head.”

That was when I realized that my feelings for them might not be quite right.