“No, Gracie is my sister. She is my best friend. We lie together at night and talk. We dream the same dreams. I can tell her everything. She’s my twin, my life. When daddy hits me she’s the one I turn to. How can you say I don’t have a sister?” I’m mad but my words come out in a monotonous voice, my body also revealing no emotions

“Sweetie…” She gently cradles my wrists. “You did have a sister, but she died. She was stillborn. You had a twin, but she died. She died before you were born. Her name was Gracie, I remember reading it in your file. How did you know? No one told you about her?”

“Stillborn? Dead? Gracie?” My therapists words haunt my mind. “No, she’s real. I can touch her. She holds me. How is she unreal?”

“Bronwyn… I saw the file. I know it’s true.”

“But I felt her. I know she exists.”

“Bronwyn, you were in the same womb. You grew with her. I’ve only ever read about this, but maybe you are connected to her. Maybe her spirit is your guardian angel. You said she healed you. She’s your angel.”