Our triplet sister died when we were eleven—until a box arrived on our 21st birthday that revealed she might not have been gone at all.

trembled.

Nora turned her head toward us and smiled.
It was smaller than her usual smile, but it was still hers.

“Don’t look like that,” she told us.
“You both look weird when you’re worried.”

Leila burst into tears.

I didn’t.
Not then.
I stood frozen near the foot of the bed, gripping the metal rail with both hands.
I thought if I held on tightly enough, nothing continue reading …