“I found things I liked because I liked them. People met me without asking where my sister was.”
“So when you remembered us, you stayed gone.”
“At first, I was scared.”
“And after that?”
“I found things I liked because I liked them.”
Her mouth trembled.
“After that, I chose myself.”
I stepped back.
“You chose yourself by letting us bury you? Mourn you?”
“I know how awful that sounds.”
“It sounds awful because it was.”
“After that, I chose myself.”
She nodded.
“I know.”
Mom reached for her.
Clara pulled away.
“I loved all of you. I did. But I was terrified that if I came back, I’d stop being Clara again.”
I looked at her.
“I loved all of you.”
“And you thought the only way to be yourself was to make sure I spent ten years grieving you?”
Clara wiped her face.
“I looked you up four years ago.”
“You found me?”
“Yes.”
“What did you see?”
“You found me?”
“Your house. Your job. Friends. You’d built a life.”
“And that made you stay away?”
“I was curious about you.”
“Curious enough to search, but not call.”
She looked down.
“No.”
“I was curious about you.”
Clara sat at the edge of the couch.
“Once I was stable enough to make my own decisions, nobody could force me to contact my family.”
“But you didn’t even know who you were.”
“Not at first. Rehabilitation gave me routines before it gave me memories. By the time I remembered enough to piece together my old life, I’d already started building a new one.”
“And eventually you remembered us.”
“But you didn’t even know who you were.”
“Yes.”
“So why didn’t you come home?”
Clara looked at me.
“Because, again, for the first time, I was just Clara.”
“No twin questions, no comparisons, nobody saying, ‘Sarah did this,’ or ‘Sarah was better at that.’ I could decide what I liked without wondering whether you liked it first.”
“No twin questions.”
“You could’ve told us that.”
“I know.”
“You could’ve come home, looked me in the face, and said, ‘I need my own life.’”
“I know.”
“Instead, you let me grieve a dead sister who was alive.”
Her eyes filled.
“You could’ve told us that.”
“That’s the part I can’t defend.”
“Good. Don’t.”
She nodded.
“I was selfish. I wanted freedom. Then every year I stayed gone made coming back harder. I told myself you were okay. That coming back would only hurt everyone again.”
“And seeing me happy online made that easier.”
“Good. Don’t.”
Her face crumpled.
“Yes.”
I looked away, then faced her again.
“I can understand wanting to be your own person.”
Clara watched me carefully.
