On her first day of school, she came home, dropped her backpack, and said: “Mom, pack one more lunchbox tomorrow!”
“For who?” “For my sister.” I laughed. Nervously. “You don’t have a sister at school.”
Junie frowned. “Yes, I do. She sits beside me. Her name is Lizzy.” My blood ran cold.
I had never told her that name. “What does she look like?” “Like me. Exactly like me.
Just… her hair is parted the other way.” Then she said, “I took a picture!”
She handed me her little pink camera. Two girls stood by the cubbies. Same height.
Same eyes. Same tiny freckle beneath the eye. Junie… and her exact copy.
I didn’t sleep that night. The next morning I drove her to school myself.
