Six Years After One of My Twin Daughters Died, My Second One Came from Her First Day at School, Saying: ‘Pack One More Lunchbox for My Sister’

That afternoon, I barely had time to set down the sponge before the front door slammed.

Junie burst in, backpack half open, cheeks flushed.

“Mom! Tomorrow you have to pack one more lunchbox!”

I blinked, rinsing soap from my hands. “One more? Why, sweetheart? Did Mommy not pack enough?”

She tossed her backpack onto the floor and rolled her eyes, like I should already know.

“For my sister.”

A jolt of confusion ran through me. “Your… sister? Honey, you know you’re my only girl.”

“Tomorrow you have to pack one more lunchbox!”

Junie shook her head stubbornly. For a moment, she looked just like Michael.

“No, Mom. I’m not. I met my sister today. Her name’s Lizzy.”

I fought to stay calm. “Lizzy, huh? Is she new at school?”

“Yes! She sits right next to me!” Junie was already fishing in her backpack. “And she looks like me. Like… the same. Except her hair is parted on the other side.”

A strange chill ran down my back. “What does she like for lunch, baby?”

“She said peanut butter and jelly,” Junie said. “But she said she’s never had it at school before. She liked that you put more jelly than her mom.”

“I met my sister today. Her name’s Lizzy.”

“Is that so?” I asked.

Then Junie’s face brightened. “Oh! Want to see a picture? I used the camera like you said!”

I’d bought her one of those little pink disposable film cameras for her first day. I thought it’d be fun, and help her make memories. And that I could make a scrapbook for her later.

She handed me the camera, so proud of herself. “Ms. Kelsey helped take a photo of us. Lizzy was shy! Ms. Kelsey asked if we were sisters.”

I scrolled through the photos. There they were, two little girls by the cubbies, matching eyes, same curly hair, and even similar freckles just under their left eyes.

Junie’s face brightened.