“Rose was living overseas at the time, and neither sister knew for certain whether their renewed relationship would actually last.”

I tried to picture Aunt Madeline sitting at her familiar wooden kitchen table, quietly writing heartfelt letters to a sister she had never once mentioned to me.

That kitchen had been the safest sanctuary in my entire world as a young woman.

I knew every tiny scratch on the tabletop and every creak in the floorboards.

Yet suddenly, there were massive, hidden chapters of Madeline’s life that I had known absolutely nothing about.

“Where is Rose living these days?” I asked.