Nothing could.
The following days were a whirlwind—meetings, lawyers, investigations.
Marla was reported. The hospital opened a case.
And yet… I still woke up expecting grief, like a habit I couldn’t break.
One afternoon, I sat across from Suzanne while Junie and Lizzy played together on the floor, laughing like they had never been apart.
“Do you hate me?” she asked.
“I hate what you did,” I said. “But I see that you love her. And that’s the only reason I can stand here right now.”
She nodded through tears. “Is there any way we can do this… together?”
I looked at the girls.
“They’re sisters. That will never change again.”
Later, in mediation, Marla faced me.
