Really?

I think,

she says.

Really.

Right then I want

my Liz

so I can

tell her all about

Alex

and how his hair is

a little long and

how he’s taller

than me

and skinny.

What would she say?

99.

Momma and me

surprise Liz one Saturday afternoon.

No one,

not even the doctors,

know we’re coming for a visit.

A nurse leads us down the hall.

Liz is in Arts and Crafts,

she says.

Arts and crafts?

Liz is up for

Arts and Crafts?

Momma lets out a

disgusted sound

and says,

I picked me the

wrong career

in a whisper so loud

I know the nurse

hears.

We round the corner.

Momma hangs back,

outta sight.

The room is full of kids

working at tables.

There must be fifteen of them,

kids I mean.

I wonder,

Have you all tried to kill

yourselves? Is that why you

are here?

Liz isn’t even the youngest.

But she is the prettiest.

I see her working.

She’s doing something,

though I have no idea what.

From where

I stand

I see her hands shaking.

The nurse calls out Lizzie’s name.

She sees me,

glances like

she’s checking I’m alone,

and breaks out with a smile

as wide as our river.

Hey, Hope,

she says.

Come see what

I’m making for you.

She holds up a belt

and it wiggles a little,

like a snake caught by the tail.

I’m putting your initials on it,

she says.

I hurry to her

and grab her into a hug.

You’re talking,

I say.

You’re better!

I cannot believe this

change in my sister.

She smells like lotion

and the light in the room

is so bright.

You’re better,

I want to say again,

I want to say,

How?

Why?

What happened?

but Lizzie

doesn’t give me

the chance.

I press in the leather with this,

she says.

She holds up a metal tool

I don’t recognize.

She looks tired,

yes.

Worn-out.

More thin than I’ve

ever seen

her.

But she’s talking.

Standing

(though shaky)

up!

Then I can paint them.

What colors do you choose?

I clear my throat.

Your favorites,

I say, my voice caught

near the back of

my tongue.

Do butter yellow and olive green.

Oh, I have missed her.

Oh, I have missed my sister.

My real sister

not the shadow she was

before.

Lizzie girl,

Momma says,

coming from around the corner

fast as a bus.

I heard you talking,

she says.

I heard you talking to Hope.

Liz flinches.

Then

turns away.

Now, I heard you,

Momma says.

She walks fast to Liz,

who moves to a window

that’s covered in mesh.

She drops the belt

and I run

to pick it up

to hand it back

to my real sister,

my real Lizzie.

But I don’t

get the chance.

You can’t fool me,

Momma says

and she is right

in Lizzie’s face.

Momma,

I say,

wait.

But she can’t hear

me, maybe.

Mrs. Chapman,

the nurse says.