I was jealous.
Terribly jealous.
At first, I hated Tessa.
But Tessa was always gentle with me.
She covered for me when I missed curfew, held my hair when I was sick, and slipped twenty dollars into my suitcase when I left for college, even though I knew she had almost nothing.
Somewhere along the way, she stopped feeling adopted.
She became my sister.
After I moved to another city, Tessa stayed behind to care for our mother.
When Mom died, I returned home expecting us to grieve together.
But all evening, Tessa barely spoke.
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