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“Can you forgive me?” Terry asks, her voice breaking over the plea, her eyes overflowing. “I know what I did—” “Yes.” I lean forward and wrap my arms around her. It is our first hug in almost thirteen years, and she feels the same. Not the dimensions of her body, but the comfort of her;
*crying*
All the stone encasing my heart against Terry shatters, and I don’t feel the hate or anger or bitterness. I feel her, and I am overwhelmed by the rightness of my sister in my arms again.
