That was how Tiffany came into my life.
She was my age, my new stepsister, and suddenly part of everything.
The older we got, the meaner she became.
And she really hated that I had someone who was fully, openly mine.
Last year, my grandma got sick.
“Your grandma is obsessed with you,” she said once when we were 13.
I shrugged. “She’s my grandma.”
Tiffany gave me a tight smile. “Must be nice.”
That was his pattern. He wanted peace so badly that he kept confusing it with silence.
Last year, my grandma got sick.
“Promise me.”
On my 16th birthday, she gave me the final line of pearls with hands that shook so badly I had to steady the box for her.
“I’m sorry it’s not wrapped pretty,” she said.
I was already crying. “Grandma.”
She pressed the box into my hands. “You’ll wear them all together.”
“I will.”
“Promise me.”
After the funeral, I took all 16 lines to Evelyn.
I nodded. “I promise.”
She smiled at me like I had just handed her the world.
Two weeks later, she was gone.
