my name.
“Where is Rebecca now?”
My mother began sobbing.
“She died twenty-five years ago.”
I lowered the phone.
Emily reached for my hand.
“What happened?”
“That woman was my mother.”
Then a terrible possibility occurred to me.
“Emily, ask Helen whether Rebecca was your mother too.”
She hesitated before making the call.
When Helen answered, Emily demanded the truth.
“Was Rebecca my biological mother?”
After several seconds, Helen whispered,
“Yes.”
Emily broke down.
We held each other, trembling.
We had spent twenty-five years pretending to be sisters.
Now we
