My husband eventually left because he couldn’t carry it with me anymore.
It became just Wren and me. Her first day of kindergarten, she came home and dropped her backpack.
“Mom, pack one more lunchbox tomorrow.” “For who?” “For my sister.” I laughed it off, nervous.
“You don’t have a sister at school, sweetheart.” She frowned at me, completely certain.
“Yes I do. She sits right next to me. Her name is Lizzy.” My blood went cold instantly.
I had never once said that name to her. “What does she look like?” “Like me.
Exactly like me. Her hair’s just parted the other way.” Then her whole face lit up.
