The marriage was over before it had truly begun.
What Claire Left Me
Months later, I returned to Claire's office.
Her desk had been cleared.
Most of her belongings were gone.
But Megan handed me one final envelope.
“Claire wanted you to have this.”
I opened it.
Inside was a photograph of the two of us as children.
We were probably eight and ten.
I was missing a front tooth.
Claire was making a ridiculous face.
On the back, she had written:
Even when we don't say everything, you're still my sister.
I cried harder than I had at her funeral.
Because that was the truth.
Claire and I hadn't been perfect sisters.
We hadn't shared every secret.
We had argued.
