Roya
This feels so awkward. It shouldn't feel awkward.
How am I supposed to feel meeting my father for the first time?
I'm sitting on Sydney's couch, waiting for Keller to arrive. Her house is beautiful and old-fashioned yet so very modern at the same time. She has so many framed pictures of her children, my brothers and sisters, on the walls.
She has a vast mirror on the wall above her open fire; on either side of that mirror are six pictures. Each picture is of a small child. A picture of my siblings arranged fashionably. Sydney points out each child, even me, when I was a baby. I can't believe how much we all look alike. Wait, correction: how much I looked like Kory.
On the wall opposite is a large canvas of Sydney and Keller sitting on a small chaise, me as a baby in my mother's
