After my daughter begged me not to attend her school due to my facial scars, a stranger entered and declared, “Your mother has been hiding the truth for 20 years.”
Every morning, I looked in the mirror before work and saw the same face staring back. The left side still carried what the fire had taken twenty years earlier. The scars crossed my cheek, traced my jaw, and disappeared down my neck in rough, uneven lines. Makeup softened them, but it never erased them. After…