Between Sisters

by Kristin Hannah

They were what Meghann wanted them to be: polite strangers who shared a blood type and an ugly childhood.

The bedrock lesson of her life was that love didn’t last. It was better to be lonely and strong than heartbroken and weak.

Bullies were bullies; their defining characteristic was the need to exert power over the powerless. Who was more powerless than a child?

That was why Meghann gravitated toward younger men. They still believed in themselves and the world. They hadn’t yet learned how life really worked, how dreams were slowly strangled and right and wrong became abstract ideas instead of goalposts for all to see. Those truths usually hit around thirty-five, when you realized that your life was not what you’d wanted.

“Sooner or later, Meg, it’s always about family. The past has an irritating way of becoming the present.”

One thing motherhood had taught her—love required boldness. And fear simply came with the package.

The funny part was, when Claire thought of her “mother,” the face that came to her was Meg’s. In every childhood memory, it was her sister who’d been

“Sometimes love means trusting people to make their own decisions. In other words, shutting up.”