Sarah sighs. “Okay, like, I get that you were taken from her, but she has a kid who’s right here. I never seemed to be good enough. Not like I could fill a void or whatever, but I had to live in your shadow all my life. There are yearly marches on the date you were taken to remind people that you were still out there somewhere. Ever since I could remember, I’ve been that girl whose sister was kidnapped. I just want to be Sarah.”

There were marches? I hadn’t really considered what everybody else had been going through here while I was away.

Fifteen years.

Fifteen years is a really long time. I should be happy Paula never gave up on me. That she fought to keep my memory alive while I was living a perfectly happy life completely unaware of her existence.

“I didn’t realize … all of that … stuff happened.” It’s even hard to process. “All I can say is that I’m sorry. And I want us to be …” Friends? Are sisters friends? I think about the close relationship between Jan and Julia. They’re more than sisters. They’re a little unit. Then I think about Rob, who couldn’t stand to be in the same room as his brother and had a party when his brother went to college. I wish Sarah and I could be somewhere in the middle, although it seems as if we’re tilting toward estrangement.

Sarah’s cell phone starts to chirp. “Time’s up,” she states.

I look at her. Her demeanor had intimidated me a little, but she’s only eleven. She’s had to live with this burden for her entire life. All because of what our parents have done. Neither of us should be punished for our actions.

She seems so small, so young—sitting on her bed with her arms around her legs and wearing a shirt with an owl on it and rainbow socks. There are three stuffed animals on her bed, which I would wager she sleeps with. She probably needs the comfort. Maybe she’s never felt safe.

Before I can second-guess myself, I reach over and hug her. She tenses at my touch for a second, before she puts her arms around me. “I’m so sorry,” I repeat. “I’m here now, and maybe things will get better for you.”

I feel this tug toward her that I hadn’t before. I want to protect her. I want to make up for my absence in her life. The absence that has caused her so many problems. I want to make it right. I want to make her life better.

Sarah and I remain there for a few more moments, comforting each other.

Like sisters do.