Sophia’s P.O.V

The drive to the kindergarten is filled with a quiet heaviness and unspoken tension. The twins sit in the back seat, staring out their respective windows, not saying a word. I keep glancing at them through the rearview mirror, hoping one of them will at least meet my eyes, but they don’t. Sara’s clutching her lunchbox like it personally offended her, and Tara’s got that stubborn tilt to her chin that reminds me way too much of her father.

“Girls,” I ...