My sister died on my wedding day. A week later, her colleague called and said, “She left you a phone and a note. COME TO THE OFFICE IMMEDIATELY!”

when we arrived. Flashlights swept the riverbank. Mud had soaked the hem of my wedding dress.

Claire had taken a different route, a shortcut along the river. Her car went off the road and ended up in the water.

The next day, her body was found, and instead of a honeymoon, there was a funeral. Black dresses. Dishes piled high on the counters. You could continue reading …