Two adult women, texting at speed, and not one syllable of doubt about the conclusion, only escalating agreement about how alarming the conclusion was.

Panic, I have learned, is contagious, and it travels faster than sense, and a sister on the other end of a phone will amplify your fear far more reliably than she will calm it, because she loves you and your fear is her fear, instantly and without examination.

“Zachary’s coming upstairs right now to look at it,” I typed.

“Update me the exact SECOND he sees those bags,” she ordered.

I set the phone down, my heart still going like a drum, and I realized I genuinely did not know what our next step was supposed to be.