Myra glanced behind to confirm that Nova was still asleep before she settled forward again and sighed.
She had no idea why she wanted to tell this stranger about something her closest friends did not even know.
Maybe it was because she had begun to think about her brother more often lately, and her adult mind wondered whether there was something fishy with her brother’s death after all, especially with this attitude she was finally noticing her father had.
“Orson and I were Irish twins, so we were really close,” she said, and turned to the Professor, who glanced at her.
Although he had his eyes on the road, she had his full attention.
“We were four years old at the time, and the house we lived in had an open backyard. We played till late at night, barely supervised.” She glanced at
