But for the first time since her arrival, Rosalee slept. She curled her calves around mine, like interlocking pieces, and I watched her breathing, short puffy breaths that made her curly-cue bangs float out when she exhaled.

My cousin was beautiful. And damaged. I couldn’t imagine losing my mother. Sure, I’d lost Dad, but I’d been too young to feel it. To understand it fully at the time.

Late-night sleeping sessions became late-night confessions. Rosalee told me her secrets and I told her mine. I read her pages from my stories, and she painted a picture of me, making me look beautiful in a way I’d never seen or felt before.

We spent the daytime hours outdoors, walking to the public pool or park or riding bikes. I’d never really had a friend before. But more than that—she felt like a sister, just like Mom had said.

I expected it all to change when school started. And in a way, things did evolve.

Rosalee wasn’t considered the prettiest girl, but she was new and had lost something, and that intrigued people. Plus, Rosalee was always nice. She fitted in with both boys and girls alike.

Despite all that, she never left my side. She never made me feel like a leper, and as a result, the kids at school were kinder, and included me, along with Rosalee.

Middle school advanced to high school. Rosalee joined drama and I joined nothing, spending my free time reading and writing. Mom pushed me to join more things like Rosalee, but Rosalee defended me. I wish I were smart and had the patience for reading like Tinsley. If I did, I wouldn’t be running around trying to find extra things to keep me busy, she told her.

The closer I got to Rosalee and my school friends, the farther I got from Mom. I guess that’s what happens when you become a teenager. Things change, and maybe they’re supposed to.

I didn’t know Mom had cancer; she knew but never told us, and to this day, I feel angry at her for not giving me a chance to deal with it, to say some sort of formal goodbye…

Rosalee and I were both nearly eighteen by then; a distant uncle we barely knew on my father’s side came to stay with us for a brief time. Then Rosalee left for college, and I spent my days missing my mother. And I missed Rosalee, too.

I thought it would be me going off to study, to write books, or to get a degree in library science. But it was Rosalee who left town, and I was the one who stayed. Left behind with Uncle Noah. I got a job at the local bookstore and tried my best to cope with depression and grief. I missed Mom so terribly, and although I’d never admit it to anyone, I missed Rosalee even more.