Fran put the brush down and put her hands on her hips. “I didn’t want to say anything before,” Fran said, “but this has gone on long enough. You need to stop this. You hurt your ankle two years ago. Your ankle. And now you can’t do your own hair? How does that even work? How can your injured ankle stop you from lifting your arms to brush your hair? I know you’ve always believed we give your brother more attention than we give you, but this is an extreme way to get us to notice you, Dianna.”

“You think I’m doing this to get attention?” Dianna asked, although she...