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“Mom?”
“Yes, baby. I’m still her sister.”
She studied my face.
“Do you still love her?”
That one hurt even more.
“I’ll always love the sister I grew up with.”
Apparently that was enough.
Amelia turned back toward the mirror.
“Okay.”
She picked up the little white gift bag Lina had sent for her.
But something about that quiet “okay” stayed with me.
My mother arrived fifteen minutes later.
She took one look at me in sweatpants and frowned.
“You’re really not coming?”
“We’ve discussed this.”Weddings
“Annie.”
“Mom.”
She sighed.
“Lina is your sister.”
I stared at her.
That sentence had been repeated so many times over the previous months that it had almost lost all meaning.
Almost.
“She deserves happiness too.”
I glanced toward Amelia.
She was standing near the door, listening.
I didn’t want another argument in front of her.
So I crouched and hugged her.
“Have a good time.”
“I love you, Mom.”
“I love you too.”
Then Mom said quietly:
“You could try acting like a sister for one day.”
I stood.
“Not today.”
“Annie—”
“Please take Amelia to the wedding.”
Mom pressed her lips together.
Then she left.
I closed the door.
