Six Years After One of My Twin Daughters Died, My Second One Came from Her First Day at School, Saying: ‘Pack One More Lunchbox for My Sister’

in my arms.

I never even got to see her.

There are moments you never recover from.

We named her Eliza in whispers, a name carried like a secret between my husband, Michael, and me.

But as the years dragged on, the grief changed us. Michael left, unable to live with my sadness, or maybe his own.

So it became just the two of us: me and Junie, and the invisible continue reading …