At least, that's what I wanted to believe. Unfortunately, the older the girls became, the harder that explanation was to accept. By 17, even strangers noticed the resemblance.
A waitress once asked if they were sisters. Then a neighbor made the same mistake a few weeks later.
Each comment lodged itself in my mind, chipping away at the certainty I had spent years protecting.
Then Thanksgiving arrived.
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And everything changed.
My parents hosted Thanksgiving every year, and the routine rarely varied. The house was packed with relatives, football played in the background, and the dining room table looked like it could feed an army.
It should have felt familiar.
Instead, I spent most of the evening feeling uneasy.
Olivia seemed distracted.
Her husband Mark seemed tense.
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And every time Emma and Lily stood next to each other, I caught both of them looking away.
I couldn't explain it; I only knew something felt wrong.
