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.

Mom. If this works, I am basically a genius.”

Leila made a choking sound and grabbed my hand.

Nora continued.

“I wanted you to hear me say it. I am not mad that I have to go. I am sad, but I am not mad. I got to be your sister. That was the best thing.”

Mom covered her mouth.

“And I need to tell you a secret,” Nora said.

My heart stopped.

“I heard you two continue reading …