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.

Gia,

If you are reading this, you are 21 now. That sounds very old, but Mom says 21 is still young, so do not act like you know everything.”

A broken laugh escaped me.

Leila wiped her cheeks with her sleeve.

I kept reading.

“I hope you still draw flowers on everything. I hope you still sing when you think no one is listening. You always stop when people continue reading …