“You can’t carry me through a dance. I’m too heavy.” I carried her toward the dancefloor and people made room for us since we required a bigger space to dance due to the way I was holding Emma. “Are you suggesting I’m not strong enough?” Emma smiled gently. “You are the strongest man I know.” I began to dance to the music with Emma in my arms, ignoring the curious looks, but scowling at those who dared to direct pity at my sister. She didn’t want their pity. Soon, Emma started laughing as we whirled around to the music. When the dance was over, and I carried her back to her wheelchair, she
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