The first step was the hardest, as if there were an invisible force field working against me. I moved forward anyway. Each step was a little easier. I wove my way through the maze of graves, scanning the names. I had no idea where Violet’s was. I’d never asked my parents, and they wouldn’t have dared to bring it up.

My steps faltered as I caught sight of the headstone, the rock that marked a life cut way too short. It was perfectly Violet, understated yet somehow elegant. It held her name, the dates she’d lived, and who she was. Daughter. Sister. Child of God. I think Violet would’ve liked it if she could’ve seen it. Who knows, maybe she could. There was nothing on the stone that represented who she was to me, though. Nothing that read first love or anything like that.

I wanted to be represented there somehow. I needed something that showed what she meant to me. She was my first everything. Date. Kiss. Fumbling sex. We’d grown up together. Built an innocent life, one that was full of hopes and dreams and grand plans. But it had fractured, exploded into a million pieces. Violet’s pieces were irreparable. But mine, they’d come back together in a new image. One that wasn’t as naïve as the old me. A reimagined person that knew the reality of loss and pain. That knew life didn’t always work out as you planned.

“Hi, Vi.” My voice came out ragged, as if I’d smoked an entire pack of cigarettes the night before. I licked my lips that suddenly felt as dry as the desert. “I’m sorry I haven’t been by before. It was just too hard.” I blew out a harsh breath. “God, that makes me sound like such a coward.” I tipped my head back, shaking it and grinning up at the sky before looking back at the stone. “But if anyone would understand and be forgiving, it would be you. You always let me off the hook.”

I studied the flowers around the headstone. They weren’t bouquets like on the other graves. They were neatly potted plants, clearly carefully tended to. I eased myself onto the ground, leaning against the marker behind me. “Your sister doesn’t brush stuff under the rug like you. Can’t let it go quite so easily.”

They were always as different as night and day, but those differences seemed to stand out in even more stark contrast now. The things I’d loved so much about Violet—her gentleness, the comfort we had with each other—I didn’t know if they’d be enough for me now. Just thinking about it had my gut churning. My relationship with her had always been easy. We knew each other backwards and forwards.