“Don’t just say hi.”
Her expression fell.
“Okay.”
I couldn’t bring myself to hug her.
Instead, I tested her.
“What did we call the dent in my bedroom wall?”
Her eyes filled.
“The moon.”
“Who broke Mom’s vase during the blizzard?”
“I did. You took the blame because Dad was going to ground me before Maisie’s birthday.”
My knees nearly weakened.
“It’s really you.”
Clara stepped closer.
I stepped back.
“How are you alive?”
“Can we leave first?”
“No.”
She lowered her voice.
“I survived the crash.”
“We buried you.”
“It was an empty casket, Sarah.”
“Mom still puts flowers at your grave.”
Clara closed her eyes.
“Dad couldn’t drive that road for five years.”
