Mary and Bertha were close. Bertha kept her insecure feelings hidden as well as she could. But how could she possibly measure up to Mary? Mary the pretty, Mary the talented, Mary the much-wanted. They did everything
together. They had fun, they went out to parties. Yet Bertha kept it all hidden as she watched. Then one day she got a call on her job. Mary had been in a horrible car accident. Mary was scarred for life, and could barely walk, with only a grotesque walk. Her features were horrible. So Bertha did what a good sister does. She went to help her sister, and put her up in her apartment. Mary's suitors were taken aback by Mary's looks, but Bertha did her best to put them at ease.
Then, one day an old friend stopped by, who had grown into a growing practice of plastic surgury. So Bertha did all she could to help Mary achieve the looks and prestige she had before. Mary was once again made beautiful, and Bertha was once again the sidekick of the prettiest woman she knew. Bertha still longed for the spotlight,
yet now, for some reason, she had a different feeling of herself, of knowing, of believing in who she was, in being comfortable with herself.