Deven rolled her eyes. “Now you sound like Mom.” The woman they knew before, not the shell of the woman who remained. The mom who was carefree, loving, and fulfilled.

Kennedy didn’t comment, which had Deven glancing sideways to watch her profile. It was clear by the clenched jaw Kennedy was in no mood for a discussion related to their mother. She certainly knew how to hold a grudge.

They entered the food court and immediately, a blend of onions, peppers, and spices assaulted her nostrils. Deven took a seat at one of the bistro tables while Kennedy took off to order their lunch. She returned with a tray, piled with two drinks, two cartons of fries, and two Philly cheesesteaks rolled, burrito-style, in sandwich wrap paper.

Deven bit hungrily into her sandwich. The melted cheese was hot on her lips but still, she savored the delicious flavor. She took a sip of her lemonade to cool her mouth.

“Oh, I meant to tell you, I met someone.” Kennedy’s dimples winked with an amused smirk before she stuffed a fry into her mouth.

Deven nodded for her to divulge the details, but at the same time something—or someone, rather—caught her eye. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought she saw the single braid of some locs bouncing off a tweed jacket. But just as quickly, he was gone.

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

She felt like she was drowning.

Deven sucked in a greedy breath as the splash of water felt like ice on her skin. She coughed, nearly choking, and her throat constricted with the brief lapse in oxygen.

Finally, she leaned up from the sink to eye her reflection in the mirror.

She looked like hell. A dingy mirror in a morgue bathroom didn’t need to tell her that. Water droplets cascaded down her face in sheets as her mind fumbled through the series of events.

“That’s not my sister.”

The room went still. So still, in fact that Deven had to wonder if the other occupants had snuck off while she’d been so consumed with the photo. A stranger’s photo.

It was Justin’s arm suddenly falling away from her shoulder that prompted Deven to tear her eyes from the glossy image. She glanced first at him, then to Maria. Both of them carried identical frowns of confusion. Why were they staring at her like that?

“Did you hear what I just said?” Deven spun the clipboard around and nudged it across the table back in Maria’s direction. “That’s not Kennedy. That’s not my sister.”

“Babe,” It was Justin that broke the awkward silence first, his tone irritatingly delicate. “I know this is hard to digest, but denial won’t make her death any less true.”