She's still my sister

She's still my sister
Ashlyn

What is she planning?

Why does she want to talk to me?

Should I trust her after everything she's done to me and my family?

My chest felt unbearably heavy as I lay on the bed, the phone still clenched tightly in my hand. I had been staring at it for what felt like forever. I closed my eyes, trying to calm my restless heart that wouldn't stop pounding with unease.

What should I need to reply to her?

I wanted to scream at her. I wanted to throw every bit of anger I had bottled up over the years. Anger from the silence, the betrayal, the endless lies. But beneath all that fury… a small, fragile part of me still hoped. I hoped that maybe, just maybe, facing her would bring some peace.

"Ashley, whatever you're planning, I won't let you succeed."

I whispered it to myself, more like a vow than a thought, before sitting up abruptly. I wiped the single tear that escaped the corner of my eye, stared at the glowing screen, and typed with trembling fingers.

"When and where?"

I pressed send and in the same heartbeat, I felt my heart lurch in my chest.

Maybe… maybe this is the moment we've both been avoiding for far too long. Maybe it's time to end this. So we can all finally breathe again.

I should have done this the moment all my memories have returned. I should have faced the truth then, rather than acting cowardly and hiding from it in fear of being rejected by Marco in the end.

I've spent years trying to escape this nightmare, a life haunted by the same memories, the same wounds, over and over again. It's as if an invisible rope has been strangling what's left of my family… and Ashley is the one holding the end of it.

Maybe this is the only way to cut it.

Not long after, her reply arrived.

"At our old house. The day after tomorrow. Ten a.m."

Our old house?

I blinked. The air around me seemed to thicken, pressing against my chest. A dull ache bloomed deep inside as memories, ones I tried so hard to bury, came rushing back. The scent of wood. A morning filled with sunlight but devoid of joy. The silence of a home that once held laughter.

I could barely remember what it looked like anymore. Not now that Ashley has done something that brought us together to a point of no return.

Did Ashley ever visit it after the accident? Or did she abandon it, like everything else?

Then I realized, I didn't even know where our parents were buried.

Not once did I visit them. I never asked. I never fought for their memory. What kind of daughter does that make me?

I dropped my phone on the bed and bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. Then, as if desperate for answers, I picked it up again and called Marco.

He answered right away. "Sweet? What's wrong? I'll come home right now."

His voice was so soft, so full of concern wrapped around me like a warm blanket. He had just left, and yet he was already willing to turn back.

"No, there's no need," I said, trying to steady my voice. "I just… I wanted to ask you something."

"Anything," he replied without hesitation. "What is it?"

I took a deep breath. "Where are Mom and Dad buried?"

He went quiet. For a moment, I could feel the weight of his own memories pressing in.

"In the same cemetery as my parents," he finally said, voice gentler than before. "They're all together. You and Ashley were both unconscious back then, so I handled everything myself. I had no idea whether you have a place for them when the time comes."

A tear slipped down my cheek at his words. I've told myself over and over how lucky I am to have Marco… but only now do I truly grasp just how good he is. He took care of everything and I'm very grateful. I remember him telling me that for him, my parents and my family are his too.

"Thank you, Marco," I whispered, my voice cracking.

"No need to thank me, Sweet. You're my family. They're my family, too." There, he said it again. His sincerity poured through the phone, and despite the ache in my heart, I found myself smiling.

"I'm going to visit them tomorrow," I murmured, like a vow made not just to him but to myself.

"I'll come with you," he said softly. "We'll bring the kids, too. They should know where their grandparents are. They deserve to feel connected to where we came from."

I held the phone tighter, my lips curving into a fragile smile. "Yes. Let's do that."

I needed to see them before I faced Ashley. I needed to stand at their resting place and tell them what might happen. I needed to ask for strength, for guidance, for some quiet help from above.

I needed them to be with me, in spirit, when I see her again. I needed them to touch Ashley's heart from beyond, if that's what it would take.

To whisper to her soul that we don't need more pain. Peace is possible if we simply choose it. That somewhere in the mess of everything, there's still a place for forgiveness. For healing. For us to be twins again… not strangers in a cold war.

I want them to help me pray.

To beg God to remind us of who we used to be. Innocent, full of love, proud to be each other's other half.

I want Ashley to remember the version of herself that didn't know how to envy or hate. Only how to love.

And I hope… that when I finally sit across from her, God will be with me. That no matter what happens between us, I won't forget: she's still my sister.

And that still means something.