I said both.

I’d spent years thinking of Tiffany as the accomplished older sister Dad praised.

She knew how to talk to adults, how to charm teachers, and how to leave the room before anyone blamed her.

Now I was learning that she’d been afraid too.

Her fear had not made her innocent.

But it gave the story an uncomfortable shape I hadn’t expected.

One afternoon, I asked Colleen whether it was possible to love someone and not trust them.