“I just know I lose things,” she said, rolling her eyes.

On the anniversary of Anna and Daniel’s accident, we went together to the cemetery.

For three years I had made that trip alone after dropping Poppy at school, unwilling to ask a child to hold my grief.

This time Poppy asked to come.

I let her choose flowers and decide how long we stayed.

Evelyn stood quietly behind us.

She knew better than to make that day about the sister she had finally found.

Poppy knelt by the stone and told her parents about second grade, the puppy her friend had adopted and the purple ribbon she had won at the school art fair.