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Sara snorted “Pastor Richards has seven kids, so I’asms in his lifetime”

“Six,” Morgan replied without thinking

“Huh?”

“He’s got a set of twins”

“You’re a comedian Who knew?” Her sister made a face

Morgan watched Sara glance at the bed At the yellow-and-purple flannel pajamas She reached down and ran her hand over the the frayed edges of the pants

“I can’t believe you still wear these,” Sara murmured

So twisted in her chest, and it took a fewapart, but…”

“I still have ot them?”

Morgan didn’t answer because she couldn’t So she nodded instead and stared at the floor, scrubbing at the fiery sting of tears in her eyes It had been aweekend, senior year Her irls accoainst their protests, Catherine Campbell stood firover and annoying as hell, which only an had pretty much pouted the entire time

Morgan inhaled sharply as ies fluttered into her head They were so vivid, it felt as if she could step inside them

The bright sunher wince as she followed her mother and sister around the market The bare trees, ready for winter, that shot into the sky, looking like stick soldiers waiting to hter as Saraat herblonde hair

And the sar Vanilla

They’d spent a few hours trekking up and down the stalls of the fleaChrist on the back porch By the tio, but their ht each of the girls a pair of purple flannel paja them

“So irls will always come home,” she’d said