“Don’t you think a skeleton is a bit of a creepy decoration for a baby’s room?” Nadia asked.
“Of course not!” Tara rubbed her swollen belly. “Marie is going to be a doctor.”
“You know that already?”
“Yes,” Robert interjected. “Tara and I are both respected doctors. It will be in her blood. We think her specialty will be orthopedics. Every bone will be labeled with its name so she can learn them from a young age.”
“She’ll have a leg up on the competition once she’s in medical school.”
Nadia shook her head, deciding to keep her mouth shut.
Thirty years later, the skeleton sat in Marie’s bedroom in her new home, spray painted every color of the rainbow, wearing glasses and a wig. A framed photo of one of her award-winning art installations, on display in a museum in Boston, stood next to it. Her aunt Nadia had her arm wrapped around her in the photo. They had matching smiles.