From the start of our relationship, James rarely mentioned his sister. I knew she existed, but she was more like a shadow than a real presence in our lives.
“She left home when she was young,” he told me once during a late-night talk. “She didn’t get along with my parents. We… we weren’t close.”
I had never met her or seen a single photo of her. I assumed the past was too painful for him to revisit.
