“That’s not always true. People change over time. Breakups happen, someone dies, priorities shift, and someone is willing to talk. Deathbed confessions. Time can shake things loose.”

“You’ve been listening to too many podcasts.” Brit drew in a breath. “Time hasn’t changed you that much. Still ready to rush in where angels fear to tread.”

I might’ve been out of control too many times, but now I could throttle the turbulent emotions when they surfaced. “I hope I never change when it comes to Clare.” I tore my bread into smaller pieces but didn’t eat them.

“It was hard moving on,” Brit said quietly, her head inclined toward David. “But I found a way.”

And so had our father, in the arms of his second, and then his third, wife. My forward progress had been painfully slow and unsteady, like wheels mired in the mud. Two steps forward, three back. “You didn’t lose your other half.”

“Clare was your sister, not your other half,” Brit said.

Of course we’d been two very different people—I was as moody as Clare had been lighthearted—but we’d been connected since conception, and losing my twin had been akin to a physical loss. “That’s not what it felt like.”

“She was my sister, too.”

“What do you remember of that last night?” I asked. This conversation should have stayed between my sister and me, but I was just annoyed and saddened enough not to care.

Brit drained the water from her wineglass. “I was home sick. You know that.”

“You were really looking forward to Jo-Jo’s party.”

“I wasn’t feeling well and not in the mood to stand around with a bunch of high school kids.”

“You’d only been out of high school six months.”

“Felt like a lifetime,” she said.

“You were stoked to go.”

Her fingers curled into fists. “And I got one of my stomach pains, like when I was a kid.”

“You hadn’t had one of those since Mom died.”

“I had them but then I finally grew out of them,” she said.

“Why didn’t you give Clare your car to drive?”

She dabbed her mouth with a white napkin, blotting and leaving a red lipstick impression. “Kurt was picking her up, remember?”

“Did you talk to him?”

“He didn’t come in. He was late and honked the horn, and Clare went running. When I made it to the window, they were driving off.” She raised a brow, squaring her shoulders. “You never said where you went that night. And don’t say driving.”

“Buying drugs,” I said.

Brit blinked, tossed an embarrassed smile to David. “Refreshing honesty aside, I think we’ve dug into the past enough.”

“Clare called me. She said she had something to show me.”

“And I still have no idea what it was,” Brit said.