Kelley is 10.

She paints her toenails silver, sells lemonade on a street corner for 50 cents and shaves her legs when her parents aren't watching. She has a crush on one of the boys in her neighborhood and rides her red bicycle past his house, hoping he'll be outside.

And when she thinks adults won't notice, her piercing blue eyes study her face in the mirror. She stands for several minutes, rubbing her button nose, bending it to see what she'd look like if she didn't have a disfiguring disease.

But she does.