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.

little again, like thunder had split the sky and Nora was still between us, telling us she was responsible.

I stared at that box as if it might breathe.

Like if I opened it, Nora would somehow laugh from the doorway and tell us we were being dramatic.

With shaking fingers, I lifted the lid and GASPED.

Inside the box were three small bundles wrapped in continue reading …