“You sit on the couches downstairs. What’s the difference?” I kept my voice as nonjudgmental as possible. “I really just want to know so I can understand. I want to know you, Mom.” It was the first time I’d called her Mom, and the word hung between us.

She turned back around, her eyes wet. “You must hate me.” Her voice trembled as she spoke.

“I could never hate you. You’re my mom.”

Tears slid down her cheeks. “And you’re my other daughter.”

Had she forgotten about me like she’d tried to forget about sleeping in beds? Or was there a part of her that had always felt me, too, in the same way I’d felt her all these years, like an impression that had never left, a dull ache for an unidentified need. Had she? What would she say if I asked? She would say yes, but what if I saw the lie in her eye? I kept quiet.

“Do you want to hold your sister?” she asked nervously.

“Really?” I couldn’t believe she trusted me with the baby.

She smiled again. She’d never smiled twice in a conversation, and so far she’d only cried a little bit. Tonight was epic. Mom folded Shiloh into my arms, and she snuggled up against my chest immediately. “Oh my God, she’s so little.” Shiloh let out a tiny squeal at the sound of my voice, and my heart melted into my chest.

I had always wanted a sibling. Thad and Caleb didn’t count, because they were practically adults by the time we’d met. I wanted someone in the house with me. Another kid who could help shoulder the responsibility with Dad. Sometimes it was hard being an only child, when all the expectations fell on you. I wouldn’t have minded sharing the spotlight with someone else.

“Why don’t you sit down?” I nodded toward the bed. I saw the longing pass through her eyes before she quickly returned to the stoic expression she wore most of the time. “I’m not saying lie down and sleep in the bed all night. Just come be next to us.”

She considered my proposition for a second. It didn’t make any sense that she had to think about it, as if I’d offered her some kind of plea bargain, but something bad must have happened to her while she was in a bed, or they’d told her something awful would happen to her if she used one. Either way, I couldn’t help but be proud of myself when she finally took a seat next to me and Shiloh. She’d no sooner sat down than Shiloh stirred and started crying.

“Oh, she’s hungry,” Mom said.

I handed the baby back to her. She lifted her shirt, and Shiloh settled on her breast almost immediately. I was getting better about her breastfeeding in front of me, but I still never knew where to look when she did it. Was I supposed to look at her? Away from her? The baby? This was one of the reasons you needed a mom when you were young. Someone to teach you these kinds of things.