Some evenings, that was enough.

EPILOGUE — Seven O’Clock

Several months after the first morning, Julian and Maya came for a family photograph.

It had been Maya’s idea.

She said the girls were changing so quickly that she wanted a picture of all of us before the next set of clothes stopped fitting.

Emma and Chloe wore matching sweaters.

They looked similar enough that a stranger might have thought every difference was imagined.

I could see them immediately: the way Emma watched a face, the movement Chloe made before objecting, the slightly different way each settled when held.