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’

Junie flopped into my lap. “Mom, are we going to get all the camera colors? We need green and blue and —”

Lizzy tugged my sleeve. “And yellow! That’s for summer.”

I ruffled their hair, feeling so present it almost hurt. “We’ll use every color. That’s a promise.”

My phone buzzed. It was a text from Michael about the delayed child support. I stared at it, thumb hovering, but then looked at the girls tangled at my side.

He’d made his choice a long time ago. We were done waiting for him.

“That’s a promise.”

These moments were ours now.

I wound the camera and grinned. “Alright, who wants to race to the swings?”

Sneakers pounded and laughter spilled out, mine mixed with theirs as we ran.

No one could give me back the years I lost.