Before I ever saw myself, I saw my sister. When I was still too small for mirrors, I saw her as the reflection that proved my own existence. (Chapter 1)

My mother did seem to be waiting for something. She would sit on the front stoop till late in the night, smoking, and scanning the street as if waiting for someone to show.” ( (Chapter 2)

We sat together in the tub for a long time, until our fingertips were ridged and prunelike and the water around us had turned lukewarm. It had begun to rain outside, softly, and Maria, on her knees behind me, washed my hair, seemingly fascinated by its limp consistency. (Chapter 3)

The new woman, Carmen, sat daintily beside my father in the front seat, a wet smile turned toward him, her hands folded in her lap. As I climbed into the car, my father introduced us. She glanced back at me, and... (Chapter 4)