I thought I’d come to terms with my past. Toxic parents, an unstructured childhood, and my twin sister’s suicide are all in my rearview mirror. I’ve moved on and am doing positive work in the world as a social worker, trying to intervene for others where we’d so desperately needed the help growing up.

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I’m even dating a hot doctor. I mean, I met him because my car was t-boned, but I’m always one to look on the bright side. With a past like mine, it’s how I cope.

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But the one thing that looking on the bright side can’t change is the fact that I keep hearing Aster’s voice. I’d recognize it anywhere, even though it’s been seven years. Am I starting to lose it, just like she did?

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My life is finally coming together, just in time for strained family dynamics to rip it all apart again. One of these days, I’m going to learn when I’m truly loved, I’ll always have my voice.