My twin sister disappeared in her sunflower sweater on our 16th birthday. Forty years later, my granddaughter came home wearing it and said, “The new cleaning lady at school gave it to me.”
The plate slipped from my hand before I even realized I had stopped holding it.
It shattered across the kitchen floor, making my eight-year-old granddaughter, Tess, jump backward. She called my name, but for several seconds I barely heard her.
All I could see was the sweater she was wearing.