I Never Married Because I Raised My Brother’s

Thirteen years had passed since my brother died.

Somehow I had carried his two terrified five-year-olds all the way to this day.

I glanced at the framed photo of Caleb in the hall.

I never expected that by the end of the day, I’d be in tears.

Thirteen years had passed since my brother died.

The doorbell rang.

Aunt Marta swept in carrying a casserole dish.

She kissed my cheek. « You look exhausted and beautiful at the same time. »