Aaron

I don’t know how long I stood there, holding her in my arms.

My sister.

My little sister.

The very soul that had haunted my dreams for years, whose absence had carved a permanent hollow inside my chest.

She was warm and real.

Not a figment of childhood memory or whispered family stories. Not the echo of a lullaby sung too long ago. She was right here in my arms trembling, hesitant, but alive.

And the moment I held her, something inside of me snapped back into place. As ...