My Twin Sister Passed Away in a Car Crash Ten Years Ago – Last Monday, a Dentist’s Office Called and Asked Me to Pick Her Up

I reached the dental office and pushed through the waiting-room door.

A woman in the corner stood.

I stopped.

She was older. We both were.

Her hair was shorter, and a pale scar ran along her jaw.

A woman in the corner stood.

But she was twisting a silver ring around her right finger.

Clara had done the same thing with bracelets when we were kids.

“Hi,” she said.

“Don’t just say hi.”

Her small smile disappeared.

“Okay.”

“Don’t just say hi.”

I couldn’t make myself touch her.

“What did we call the dent in my bedroom wall?”

Her eyes filled immediately.

“The moon.”

“Who broke Mom’s vase during the blizzard?”

“I did. You took the blame so Dad wouldn’t ground me before Maisie’s birthday.”

I couldn’t make myself touch her.

Clara stepped toward me.

I stepped back.

“It’s really you.”

“You don’t have to believe everything right now,” she said.

“You don’t get to tell me what I have to do.”

“It’s really you.”

She stopped.

“You’re right.”

Same eyes. Same small line between her eyebrows when she was scared.

“How are you alive?”

“Can we leave first?”

“No.”

“How are you alive?”

Clara lowered her voice.

“I survived the crash.”

“We buried you.”

“It was an empty casket, Sarah.”

“Mom still puts flowers at your grave.”

Clara closed her eyes.

“I survived the crash.”

“Dad wouldn’t drive that highway for five years.”

“I know.”

My stomach dropped.

“How do you know?”

She opened her eyes.

“I know.”

And something in her expression changed.

That’s when I realized seeing Clara alive might not be the worst thing waiting for me.

***

Outside, she asked me to take her home.

For one stupid second, I thought she meant Mom and Dad’s house.

“I’ll call them,” I said, pulling out my phone.

She asked me to take her home.

“No.”

I looked at her.

“What?”

“Please take me to my apartment first.”

“Your apartment.”

“Sarah…”

“What?”

“You supposedly died ten years ago, Clara. I’m trying to keep up.”

She gave me an address.

“That’s two towns away.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you at a dentist here?”

“You supposedly died ten years ago, Clara.”

“I cracked a filling. This was the only place that could see me today.”

“So you don’t live here.”

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