Until a few years ago, Shirin herself had been part of that privileged society. Her father’s wealth and her own beauty and intelligence had made the world seem like a benevolent place, one she could slip into as easily as a favorite armchair. But as she watched her husband stroke the back of her son’s head—a gesture that once would’ve cracked her heart open—Shirin realized something: that without knowing it, she had joined the ranks of the world’s shunned and neglected, the invisible and unseen. If they couldn’t see past Cyloo’s deformities to his spirit, to his soul, then she was happy to