Watching them makes me think about how strangely life works.
Emily and I had originally planned to give our children the same biological father so they would share a special connection.
We never imagined that we ourselves would discover an even deeper connection.
My best friend was my sister.
The little girl my mother had lost was the woman who had spent 25 years beside me.
And the family we had dreamed of creating was already there, waiting for us to discover it.
One evening, several months after the children were born, Emily and I sat together in the garden.
The babies were sleeping inside.
My father was visiting, and Linda had brought us homemade cake.
We were looking at an old photograph of our mother.
Emily gently traced Mary’s name on the back of the picture.
“Sarah?”
“Yes?”
“Do you ever wonder what would have happened if we had never become friends?”
