“Before Tinder?”
“Yes.”
The bright green dress suddenly looked almost ridiculous against the room.
“You knew me before we matched?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Instead of answering, Claire looked at the photograph.
I read the note aloud.
“‘Found Ethan today. Tell him.’ Tell me what?”
She reached for the back of a dining chair but didn’t sit down.
“Nora was my sister.”
I looked again at the little girl beside me.
Something shifted at the edge of my memory.
Purple glasses.
A laugh.
A book lying open across two sets of knees.
But each image disappeared before I could hold onto it.
“Your sister?”
“My half-sister. She was much younger than me.”
“Why am I in a picture with her?”
Claire finally looked directly at me.
“Because you were friends.”
The answer should have made things clearer.
Instead, everything became more confusing.
