Part 1 — The Promise I Made When I Was Fourteen

When I was fourteen years old, my little sister grabbed the back of my shirt and begged me not to leave her.

Twenty years later, I would remember that moment while standing in a wedding reception, staring across a crowded room at the same sister who had once disappeared and left three newborn daughters behind.

Her name was Vanessa.

And for two decades, I had believed she had chosen to forget us.

Our parents disappeared from our lives when I was fourteen and Vanessa was only ten. I still remember the day we moved into Aunt Carol’s house.

Vanessa stood in the hallway surrounded by boxes, clutching my shirt so tightly her fingers turned white.

“Promise you won’t leave me too,” she whispered.

I was frightened myself.

I had no idea what our future looked like.

But I was her