looked toward the couch as if another explanation might somehow be waiting there.
Finally she said, “Because I knew who you were.”
I stared at her.
“Before Tinder?”
“Yes.”
The bright green dress suddenly looked almost ridiculous against the room.
“You knew me before we matched?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Instead of answering, Claire looked at the photograph.
I read the note aloud.
“‘Found Ethan today. Tell him.’ Tell me what?”
She reached for the back of a dining chair but didn’t sit down.
“Nora was my sister.”
I looked again at the little girl beside me.
Something shifted at the edge of my memory.
Purple glasses.
A laugh.
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A book lying open across two sets of knees.
But each image disappeared before I could hold onto it.
“Your sister?”
“My half-sister. She was much younger than me.”
“Why am I in a picture with her?”
Claire finally looked directly
