From the year we turned six, Jen and I were so inseparable that people thought of us as twins. She was closer to me than my only sister. Which is what made it worse. If someone you’re not close to is mean to you, then you might think Maybe he just didn’t know any better.

But when someone who’s heard, felt, or witnessed every single intimate detail of your life; someone who is the physical embodiment of your diary does something reprensible, you make no such allowances. The pain is not just in the situation; it’s in the intentions. Did she mean to hurt me? She had to know this would end our friendship. Was it really so disposable to her, when I would have fought so hard to hold onto it?

The necklace was solid gold. It had been a sixteenth birthday present from my father. The heart-shaped pendant held my baby picture and a photo of him, smiling just because I had been born. “You’ll always be my baby,” he said at the time, “no matter how old you get.”

“Dad!” I pulled away from the hug, embarrassed.