Complications.
That was the word they used.
I never saw her. Never held her. Never got to say goodbye.
I just learned how to live with the silence she left behind.
Or at least… I thought I had.
The next morning, my hands were shaking on the steering wheel as I drove Junie to school.
She talked the whole way there, like it was any normal day.
About crayons. About her teacher. About what Lizzy liked to eat.
I barely heard her.
When we got there, she grabbed my hand and pointed.
“There she is.”
I followed her finger.
And everything inside me stopped.
The girl was standing near a tree.
Same posture. Same face.
