Chapter 21

11 YEARS AGO, THANKSGIVING, 2010.

I sat on my little chair close to my pink vanity mirror, looking at my Mama's reflection in the mirror, whose eyes are trained on my hair and whose hands work skillfully to get my thick curls done right. 

Most families were and are happy by this time, sitting on the dining chair, eating roasted turkey and any Thanksgiving dish of their choice, just like us.

Mama's warm voice snaps me out of my thoughts.

"All done baby, you look so beautiful." Her smooth voice says, wrapping around me like a warm blanket.

I take time to admire her features, her skin brown like mine. Bryson took a little of Papa's skin which is a bit darker than that of Mama and I.

My features are a mix of the both of them, my small nose, full lips and brown eyes from mama and my thick brows and dimples from my Dad.

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