Liam
I waited in the hospital parking lot until Leah’s car turned out of the exit.
She drove with both hands on the wheel.
Careful.
Straight-backed.
Too tired.
I knew better than to follow her.
I wanted to anyway.
That was the problem with getting my sister back. My instincts had not gotten the message that she was thirty, divorced, a mother, and perfectly capable of telling me to go to hell if I hovered too close.
Some part of me still saw the toddler with red hair and sticky hands, trying to climb the pantry shelves because she wanted crackers and did not believe in waiting for help.
Little Bird.
Maeve had laughed the first time she called her that.
“She’s going to fly before she learns sense,” Mom had said, one hand braced against the counter, her face too pale under the kit
