Do you want to touch it?" my sister asks me.
She's caught me staring at it, the growth in her breast that is practically visible to the naked eye. The skin there is inflamed, strangely rippled and to say it is a lump does not quite give it justice; it is more like an appendage, the defiant fist of a tiny being that has taken up residence somewhere between her armpit and her nipple.
"No," I say. "I don't."
