“Yes.”
Helen smiled.
“She called you her little sister.”
I couldn’t speak. I’d gone my whole life not knowing someone out there had thought of me as her little sister.
The photograph in my hand changed again.
For Anna at 12, I had been the baby who replaced her.
For Anna as an adult, I had become the sister she never got to meet.
Mom reached for Helen.
“Did she hate me?”
Helen took her hand.
“No.”
“Was she angry?”
“For a long time.”
Mom nodded as though she deserved that. “But she never stopped loving you.”
Mom closed her eyes, as Helen squeezed her fingers.
“Before she died, she told me something. She said if I ever found you, I wasn’t supposed to ask why you didn’t come for her.”
Mom opened her eyes.
“She wanted me to ask you if you thought she didn’t want you.”
Mom broke down again.
“I did.”
Helen nodded.
“She thought so.”
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