I remembered putting it there after Oliver asked about the deed the previous week.

At the time, I told myself I was protecting the documents from being misplaced during wedding preparations.

Now I wondered whether I’d already begun hiding things from the man I was supposed to marry.

The binder contained the deed to the house, the insurance-trust papers Sarah had arranged, and correspondence from the attorney who had settled her estate.

My sister was twelve years older than me.

For much of my childhood, she had been a second mother.

When Dad lost his job, Sarah worked evenings at a grocery store and used part of her paycheck to help with the bills.

When I went to college, she drove me to campus in a car with a broken passenger-side window.

She laughed when the rain soaked the seat and said we’d both survive a little water.

Years later, after I married and had children, Sarah remained the person I called whenever life became difficult.