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When she started school, I promised myself things would be different. I would be present. I would be there for her in ways I hadn’t been before.
Her first day went well. She came home smiling, talking excitedly about her teacher, her classmates, and all the new things she experienced. It felt like a fresh start.
Until she said something that stopped me cold.
“Mom, pack one more lunchbox tomorrow!”
I smiled at first, distracted as I unpacked her bag.
“For who?” I asked casually.
“For my sister.”
I laughed, but it came out strained.
“You don’t have a sister at school, sweetie.”
Junie frowned, like I was the one who didn’t understand.
“Yes, I do. She sits next to me. Her name is Lizzy.”
The room felt like it tilted.
Lizzy.
I had never told her that name. Not once. Not ever. It was too close, too familiar, too impossible to ignore.
I felt my heart start to race.
“What does she look like?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
Junie shrugged like it was obvious.
“Like me. Exactly like me. Just her hair is parted the other way.”
A chill ran through me so suddenly it made me dizzy.
Before I could even process it, she added, “I took a picture!”
She ran to her backpack and pulled out her small pink camera, pressing buttons until the image appeared. Then she handed it to me.
I wasn’t ready for what I saw.
Two little girls stood side by side near a row of cubbies.