Rebecca stammered that it was a misunderstanding. Nathan asked me quietly whether Lucy was ill. I answered that she was perfectly healthy, only uninvited because of how she looked. A murmur rolled through the pews. Nathan’s mother stood up, took off her corsage, and walked out, and Nathan’s father followed her, shaking his head.

My letter was short. I wrote that Lucy had been looking forward to this day for months, and that beauty is never something a photograph can spoil. I wrote that I loved my sister and wanted her to be happy, but I could not pretend that what she said had been small. I asked her only to look at the picture and see my daughter as I do.

Nathan took Rebecca’s hands and told her he needed to step outside with her. They were gone twenty minutes. When they returned, Rebecca’s eyes were red, and she asked the guests to wait. Nathan said the ceremony would continue only after Lucy was there, and he asked me to bring her, since the photographer could wait as long as it took.

I called my husband, and Lucy arrived in her lavender dress, nervous and smiling. Rebecca knelt in front of her in her white gown and apologized, with tears running down her face. Lucy hugged her and said she forgave her. The first photograph of the day was the three of them together. Rebecca hung it in her hallway, and Lucy’s patches are bright in every frame.