“She was two,” I grunt out. Shame slithers through me as I think about how this must appear to someone on the outside. Especially given how it looked to someone on the inside like Monica. “I know how it looks and sounds and fuck…” I let out a breath as I’m talking to the first person I’ve had to talk to about this besides our sister.

Isaac’s eyes widen before he waves down the bartender and points at the two shots in front of us. “So how did this start exactly?” It’s hard to gauge his reaction and I’m trying my best not to get defensive, knowing that this is a long road of uncomfortable conversations and I need to be able to keep my temper in check. People are going to have opinions and there’s a good chance that most of them will be negative.

“Right before Christmas.”

“And what, you guys just thought that was the way to get into the holiday spirit this year?” I hear the humor in his voice but I can also hear the accusation. You should know better.

“Gabrielle and I have always been different. We had a different connection than I had with Monica. I never really saw her as a sister. I mean I did, but not in the same way I saw Monica. Maybe because she was adopted, I don’t know.” I ramble. “We only really lived together for about five years before I went away to school and we were always close but it was more as if she was this person I wanted to look after and not because she was my sister but because I cared about her more than I did anyone else.” I lean forward and look down at the shot glass in front of me as I prepare to share something about my family that I don’t tell most people.