They spent their holiday watching soap operas, playing puzzle games, gardening, and baking cakes or cookies…which they were hopelessly bad at. On some days, Mom would come home with a small stack of books from the library where she worked. “To improve your vocabulary,” she always told them, waving them like gifts she couldn’t wait for them to open.

Other days, Agatha would slip out with her friends, usually bribing Denise with sweets to keep her silent about those little escapes. Nevertheless, school holidays were the best time for the sisters to bond, even with their small acts of mischief.

***

That day, they were busy in the garden, weeding and watering the plants, when a car rolled into the driveway.

“Who is that?” Agatha asked, stepping up behind Denise.

“I have no idea. I’m going to check it out,” Denise replied, taking a few careful steps toward the car for a better view. The window rolled down slowly, but the driver’s head stayed slumped against the steering wheel, unmoving.

“What is he doing?” she whispered, her steps growing more cautious.

The man finally stepped out, and when his face came into view, Denise recognized him, it was her dad’s brother, Uncle Andrew. She ran to him, threw her arms around him, and he lifted her effortlessly, pulling her into a tight embrace

“You’ve grown so big, Denise. No food left for the rest of us, huh?” he joked, though it landed poorly. Maybe because his eyes were red and swollen, or his voice sounded rougher than she remembered.

Agatha approached slowly, her head slightly lowered, her gaze anywhere but his face. She would have run If she had the opportunity.

Denise knew that look, the memories that haunted her sister.

She recalled the incident on her birthday three years ago, the moment that made her see her sister differently.

---

After the party, Denise had been upstairs in the nursery, playing with the other kids. Downstairs, the adults were drinking and talking about the good old days, lost in their own world. But the joy was cut short when Matthew, Uncle Andrew’s son, snatched one of Denise’s presents, a remote-controlled racing car she had just unwrapped.

“Give it back, it’s mine!” Denise cried, reaching for it.

Matthew pushed her to the floor, laughing with the other kids as if it were all a game.

“It’s mine now, and there’s nothing you can do about it,” he said, his tone icy.

Denise ran to her room in tears, too frightened to tell anyone. It was supposed to be her special day, yet all she felt was a deep, crushing disappointment.

“Denise?” she heard Agatha calling for her. “Where the hell is my favorite, oops, I mean… my only sister?” Agatha muttered as she scoured the hallway. Then she pushed open their bedroom door and halted when she saw her crying.

Denise scrambled onto the bed, turning her face away. She didn’t want to cause any problems, especially not today.

“What happened?” Agatha asked, her voice turning into a snarl. “Why are you crying?” She sat beside her and pulled her close, wiping her tears with the hem of her shirt.

“It’s nothing,” Denise replied. “I was playing with Miya when I hit my hand… it just hurt a little.” She tried to make the lie sound believable.

Agatha wasn’t buying it. She grabbed Denise’s wrist, examining it carefully.

“There is no bruise,” she said, her tone sharp and unforgiving. “Are you lying to me?”

That question shattered her. Denise couldn’t hold it in anymore, tears burst out of her again.

“Matthew took my racing car,” she admitted. “And he said he’d beat me up if I told anyone.”

Agatha shot to her feet, anger flooding her face. Without another word, she stormed out of the room. Denise followed slowly, dread curling in her stomach.

“Matthew! Matthew!” Agatha’s voice cracked like a whip as she charged into the nursery. “How dare you make my sister cry?” Every word dripped with fury.

Denise couldn’t see anything from the doorway, but the shrill screams, the crash of breaking glass, and children running out with wide, shocked eyes told her it wasn't good.

The adults rushed upstairs, and soon Matthew was being taken to the hospital, blood spilling from his jaw. That night, Agatha was punished severely and grounded for the rest of the year.

—

She could feel the guilt and shame weighing on her sister, given her refusal to apologize for what had happened.

“Come over, kiddo,” Uncle Andrew called out, his voice drained of all its usual warmth.

“I, I’ll go call Dad,” Agatha mumbled, keeping her eyes fixed on the floor.

“No!” he yelled, louder than either of them expected. He put Denise down gently and moved closer, taking Agatha’s hands.

“Why don’t you go inside and get your things, and Denise's packed. We are going somewhere.”

Agatha frowned. “I don’t understand. Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you two…”

“Where? And why can’t I call my parents?” Agatha demanded, her face shifting from confusion to suspicion.

Denise stood still, watching everything unfold as if she were a spectral figure. Uncle Andrew moved forward and stood in front of Agatha, then went down on one knee and hugged her tightly as tears slid down his face.

“What’s wrong?” she asked quietly, her eyes fixed on him.

“What is going on?” But the questions only made him cry harder.

“Your parents…they had an accident,” was all he managed to mutter before he completely broke down.

“ What…? How did this happen? Where…where are they? I want to see them now!” Agatha pulled away from his arms and ran to her sister.

Denise froze as her world lost every breath in it. She felt Agatha tug at her, urging her to move, but her legs didn't respond. She waited for him to get up laughing, one of his dry jokes again, but that never happened.

She didn't hear his next words, or maybe she didn’t want to, but she knew they were heart wrenching. When Agatha rushed into the house, tears streaming down her face as she clutched their family photo tightly to her chest. “No,no,no…”

The funeral was held in their hometown. A somber gathering of families, friends, relatives, coworkers, their teachers, and Agatha's friends who came to pay their respects. It was the cloudiest day of Denise's life. Even the black theme of the day seemed pale compared to the darkness that had taken residence in her heart. Realizing she would never again taste Mom’s cookies, feel her fingers brushing her hair, or make love cards on Dad’s birthday made her lose taste for living.

Denise was only able to survive because of her sister, who became the rock she leaned on.

After days of intense discussions between the two families, it was decided that it was best the girls go live with Aunt Lilian, who was a widow.

So that was how they left the city for the quiet life of the town. Aunt Lilian always made them feel comfortable and happy, going the extra mile to do that. She was genuinely kind to them, and Denise was grateful they had her. But, no matter how warm her home was, she could never replace their parents.

Aunt Lilian worked at the local postal office, and every time she went to work, Denise and her sister would wander down to the stream, enjoying the serene silence that wrapped around the water. It became their refuge. But Saturdays were much more lively, they could go to the movies, parks, or attend gallery auctions, and they even went camping once. Sundays were for church, long hours of sermons followed by Bible quizzes at home, where the winner could request anything she wanted. Denise wished she could have her parents back, but that was impossible, even to the Almighty God.

Agatha still kept in touch with her friends, and when they came visiting, they brought large bags of chips, vanilla cupcakes, and plenty of sweets for Denise. Life seemed okay, or at least that's what everyone thought. Unknown to them, Denise was being bullied.

The girls in the neighborhood had become a constant pain in the ass. At first, it was just verbal taunts and mocking, which she shrugged off, telling herself the girls were just acting out because of their own broken homes. But the harassment escalated quickly. Soon they were throwing sticks at her, yet she stayed silent, afraid that if she spoke up, she would be sent away.

Sadly, things didn't go as she hoped. That day, on her way back home from the salon, she was cornered by two mean-looking girls, who blocked her path. “What do you want?” She asked, glancing around for anyone who might help, but it was a lonely pathway.

The taller girl stepped forward, landing a brutal blow to Denise's nose. She cried out and stumbled as the girl taunted, “Come on, get up and fight me back, you little piece of shit.”

Denise got up, one hand clamped over her nose as warm blood seeped through her fingers.

“Oh, looks like someone got a broken nose,” the second girl sneered, kicking her on the stomach. “But that's not going to stop us from teaching you a lesson,” she added with a vicious kick to Denise’s face, sending her collapsing to the ground.

Blood dripped from Denise’s mouth as she tried to get up, but a sharp pain tore through her body, forcing her back down. The world turned blurry, and the ground spun beneath her. One of the girls picked up a large stick and raised it, aiming it at her. Denise closed her eyes, bracing for the worst when a familiar voice cut through the chaos.

“Don’t you dare.”

She opened her eyes to see the girl with the stick charging at her sister, but Agatha moved quickly, dodging the wild swing before sending the attacker crashing to the ground with a sharp kick to the chest. Without hesitation, she went after the other girl, pinning her to the ground. Agatha grabbed a sharp-edged stone and pointed it at the girl's face.

“Please,” the girl begged through tears, “I wasn't the one hurting her, please.” Agatha's eyes blazed with fury. “If you ever lay a finger on my sister ever again, I promise I will hunt you down and torture you to death.”

“I won't… I swear, please let me go.” She whimpered. The other girl, still on the ground, scrambled backwards on her palms, realizing too late that Agatha wasn't the kind of person you picked a fight with.

“Get lost.” Agatha ordered.

Neither of the girls needed to be told twice before they stumbled to their feet, tripping over each other as they ran down the path, without looking back. Only when they were gone did Agatha let the stone fall from her hand. The rage drained from her face as she turned to Denise lying on the ground. “Are you okay?” she asked softly, lifting her gently as she inspected her injuries.

“I think my nose is broken,” Denise muttered. Agatha crouched down and guided Denise onto her back. She obeyed, resting her face against her sister's shoulder, arms wrapped loosely around her.

“No more going out alone,” Agatha stated, her voice firm but trembling with fear she couldn't hide. Denise didn’t reply, as the pain made speaking difficult.

“Ow…ouch, it hurts,” she winced when the nurse cleaned her nose.

“Don’t worry, it isn’t broken,” she assured her. “Just a small cut.”

“I’m all done,” she added soothingly, applying the pain reliever and plastic strips. Denise got some stitches on her face; that would definitely leave a scar, but that was the least of her worries. She was more shaken by Aunt Lilian's reaction. She hadn’t seen her cry since the funeral. She blamed herself for not protecting her, and her anger extended to the girls' parents as well. But soon enough, the bullying stopped, and the girls who once tormented Denise avoided her like a plague. That, at least, brought her some relief.

？

Summer break was over, and Agatha had to leave for the city to attend college. She tried to hide her excitement, tried to tuck it behind a calm smile, but Denise saw it clearly, how happy she was that her dreams were becoming reality. Denise understood, she really did, yet Agatha's leaving made her feel like she was losing another piece of her heart all over again.

As they packed up her things, Agatha carefully handed over her whole collection of hair ribbons to Denise, each one tied to a memory neither of them would forget.

“You promise never to leave me,” Denise whispered, her voice shaking.

“I know, love, but I have to go to school and get a job so I can take care of you.” Agatha said, running her fingers through Denise's hair. “You know that, right?”

Denise looked down, ashamed of being clingy. She knew Agatha was right and knew she was being selfish. Her sister had her own life to live. Still, the thought of facing the world without Agatha by her side filled her with a gnawing fear…one she didn't know how to name but only felt.

Agatha paused her packing and tilted Denise’s chin up with soft fingers. “Hey,” she said, smiling, “I’m not disappearing. It’s just school, and I'll come back every chance I get.”

Though Denise could see the sadness lingering behind it, a shadow of the goodbye they were both trying to delay.

She nodded, but the knot in her chest didn’t loosen; the house already felt different, as if it knew Agatha was preparing to leave.

They spent the rest of the afternoon folding clothes and stacking books, and every now and then, Agatha would pull her into a long, warm embrace that made Denise wish time would freeze for just a moment, long enough for her to breathe without hurting.

“College isn’t forever,” Agatha reminded her gently. “It’s just a few years, and then everything will be better for both of us.” She reached for Denise’s hand and squeezed it. “You’re stronger than you think.”

Denise wanted to believe her; she wanted to be strong and wanted to be happy for her sister without falling apart. But courage didn’t come easily, not when the person she leaned on was walking toward a world she wasn’t part of.

That night, as they lay side by side on the bed they once shared, Denise listened as Agatha breathed. She memorized the rhythm, knowing she wouldn’t hear it every night anymore. And though she tried to stay awake, afraid of losing even a minute, her eyes drifted shut, her hand still wrapped around her sister’s.

Morning came far too quickly.

“I promise to always call and come visit,” Agatha said. “Now promise me you'll be a good girl, pinky swear?” She held out her little finger. They giggled as their fingers hooked together.

“Always tell Aunt Lilian if you ever get into trouble. Eat your meals on time, and no trashing your salad, huh?” Agatha added, her voice suddenly serious.

Denise rolled her eyes and teased, “Jeez, I promise. You are beginning to sound like Mom!” But her smile faded when Agatha looked away, fighting back her tears. Denise sighed softly. “Great, why did I have to ruin the mood?”

“You should start going now. Someone is getting impatient,” Aunt Lilian said, gesturing toward Uncle Andrew waiting in the car. She pulled Agatha into a tight hug. “Take care.”

Agatha smiled at her before turning to Denise. “I'm going to miss you.” She hugged her sister firmly, then picked up her bag and walked to the car.

“Agatha!” Denise's voice cracked as she ran after her, throwing her arms around her one last time. “I love you.”

“I love you too, so much,” Agatha replied before stepping into the car.

Denise stood there watching as they drove away. The farther the car went, the blurrier it became. It wasn't her vision failing; it was her tears.

****

“That would be all for now. She can start tomorrow,” the registrar announced, pulling Denise back from the past. She checked the form, ensuring everything was in order, and then stamped it. “Please, proceed to the cashier and make all the necessary payments,” she added, shaking hands with her aunt before flashing Denise a strange smile.

****

“Denise, Denise, you are going to be late for school.” Her aunt’s voice echoed in her head. She opened her eyes and stared at the clock on the wall.

6:30 a.m.

“Ugh, I hate school.” Dragging herself out of bed, she trudged to the bathroom.

Denise ran her fingers through her short black hair, staring at her reflection, deep blue eyes that fit perfectly on her chubby face, with a faint scar above her left eyebrow. She felt like a mess compared to her sister, who always looked like a goddess.

“Yuck. This is so not cool,” she muttered after putting on her school dress.

Her aunt chuckled behind her. “Don’t say that. It suits you perfectly; besides, you have to wear it every day.” She winked, making Denise roll her eyes, trying not to smile.

School was as dull as ever. She slouched into her new class, got introduced to the teacher, jotted down notes, stuck to herself, and ignored anyone who tried to talk to her. That was basically her routine.

Yet despite all that, Denise was slowly building her confidence. She was no longer the shy, fragile girl she used to be.