“I’m sorry,” I said between sniffles. “Shh,” she said, wiping my tears with the back of her hand. “You have nothing to be sorry about.…” “Why do I have to be so ugly, Mommy?” I whispered. “No, baby, you’re not …” “I know I am.” She kissed me all over my face. She kissed my eyes that came down too far. She kissed my cheeks that looked punched in. She kissed my tortoise mouth. She said soft words that I know were meant to help me, but words can’t change my face.
