“I don’t know how to do this,” Marshall said. “I’ve never known how to do any of this. You know that better than anyone.”
Mac stood in the hallway, phone to his ear, and through the open door to the south room Cloe could see Naomi laughing at something Eleanor had said, Dave nodding seriously at his binder, the whole apartment humming with the particular warmth of people who had decided, against all odds, to keep showing up for each other.
“Nobody knows how to do this,” Mac said. “That’s the part nobody tells you. There’s no manual for finding out you have a sister you spent your whole life pretending didn’t exist.”
“I was sixteen,” Marshall said. His voice had the rawness of a man speaking a thought he’d never said out loud. “I heard my parents arguing about it once and then nobody eve
