Polly hesitated and Serena knew what she was thinking. She never normally talked about the past or her sister, Caitlin. Her aunt was wondering why this time was different—and whether it was safe to pursue the conversation. Everyone was very careful around Serena on the subject of her twin. She had experienced so much trauma when Caitlin had disappeared eleven years before that she had suffered from dissociative amnesia. No one wanted to open up those scars again, but as a result they tiptoed around the subject and Serena knew she colluded with them. She’d built a wall of silence around Caitlin that became more difficult to break down every day.

“I never think of Caitlin as a ghost,” Polly said, surprising her. “She was too alive, too vivid. I mean—” She caught herself, glancing at Serena again. “She probably still is. We don’t know she’s dead. Hell.” She took a big gulp of wine. “I really don’t know why I started this.”

There was a silence. Far below, there was a splash of water and the faint cries of children’s voices. Far above, an airplane arrowed into the blue.

“I think about Caitlin every day, you know,” Serena said. She met her aunt’s eyes. “Every single day I remember her, and I wonder. I wonder if she’s alive and if so, where she is and what she’s doing, and why she wouldn’t want to contact us, and a million other things. And then I think she must be dead because how could she leave us all like that without a word and never get in touch with us again? How—why—would she be so cruel? That’s not the Caitlin we knew.” She pulled the wrap tighter about her. “I have the same conversation with myself over and over, and I never find any answers.”

“I’m sorry, hon,” Polly said. She leaned forward and touched Serena’s arm. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it. I’ve spoiled the moment.”

“No, you haven’t.” Serena smiled at her although she could feel tears pricking her eyes. “We should talk about Caitlin more. We did at the start.”

When her sister had first disappeared, the family had drawn together, closer than close, a bulwark against the horror of the outside world. Eleven years on, though, things had changed. The case was cold. Serena’s lost memories of the night her twin had vanished had never been recovered. Her parents, diminished somehow by years of stress and loss, only spoke about the superficial—their latest bowls club successes, the dinner they had enjoyed the previous week. Serena’s grandfather had slipped into dementia. Only Polly, who possessed the same bright spark and indomitable spirit that had lit Caitlin, remained the same. Serena knew that time passed and that people changed. It was natural. Sometimes, though, she felt that for all the changes in her own life, a part of her was still trapped in the moment of Caitlin’s disappearance, unable to recover those memories and in some ways unable to move on.