The challenging part was figuring out a way to randomly run into Vera Portman—my sister’s name, I came to learn—without drawing attention to myself. I wasn’t even sure why I needed to meet her, or what I would say. I didn’t want to completely upend her world…or did I? I wasn’t sure what I wanted anymore. Just a connection.

The little girl had constant activities: school, gymnastics class, soccer. I couldn’t just sit in front of their house, spying, and get hauled off by the cops. Lucky for me the house was in a remote, rustic area, and there was a dilapidated barn down the road, reachable by an overgrown cow path from bygone days when the woods were surrounded by farmland. The path was rough on my car, but I was able to park behind the barn and spy on the Portmans with compact binoculars with an excellent zoom—thank you, Amazon! And the few instances where they went out to dinner or to get ice cream—a family favorite, I quickly realized—Vera doted on her little brother, who was always in tow. But my persistence eventually paid off. One random outing to a nearby park, and the golden opportunity presented itself.

Only a handful of kids scrambled all over the playground on this warm sunny day. I scanned the perimeter for parents and found a group of moms huddled under the pavilion, and a man sitting beneath a tree. The distance blurred his features, but it looked to be her father absorbed in his phone.

I approached the little girl on the swing and offered to push her.

“Need any help getting super high in the sky?” I asked in a playful voice as I walked up behind her.

She scrunched her face at me. “I’m able to push myself, thanks. But you can swing next to me if you want.”

Ah, now I understood the face scrunching. I had talked down to her. Ten-year-olds were more articulate than I thought.

“You’re not around many kids my age, are you?” She smiled to soften the blow. At this age she would want to prove her maturity.

“Not really, no. How old are you?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

“Ten. But I’m small for my age. People always think I’m younger.”

“Nothing wrong with being small. You can hide easier.”

“Why would I want to hide?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I guess if you’re playing hide-and-seek.”

“I don’t like that game.”

“Why? I thought all kids loved hide-and-seek.”

“I don’t like being chased. It scares me.”

“Me too, kid. Me too.”

“I like your shirt,” she said. “It matches your eyes.”

I leaned forward, meeting her gaze. “Hey, it matches your eyes too. We have the same eye color. Green.”

“Yeah, I’m the only one in my family with this color. Everyone else has blue.”