My alarm goes off at the same time it does every morning, seven. I snake my arm out from beneath the warmth of my blankets to turn it off and stare up at the ceiling as I think about my day. The front door slams shut as my sister strides into the house, it always closes behind her with such force that I can feel the house tremble. The walls are thin, so much so that I can make out the song she’s humming along with in her headphones. She kicks off her running shoes, and next comes the whir...
