At My Mother’s Funeral My Sister Thought She Had Won Until I Opened the Door

our worst behavior toward each other, and that love, even now that she was gone, was doing the quiet work of building a narrow passage between us where before there had only been damage.

At the door, Odora said she was planning to rent a small apartment and start over.

“You seem happy,” she said. “You and Zevian.”

“I am,” I said.

A sad, honest smile crossed continue reading …