Rebecca used to believe that Lucy had always been there , like the sun that rose every morning without fail.
For as long as she could remember, Lucy's presence was stitched into every memory she owned. When she opened her eyes as a child and waddled into the living room, Lucy was already there with ribbons in her hair. At playgrounds, their mothers chatted on the benches while the two girls-built castles in the sand. Family dinners blurred together with shared laughter, shared desserts, shared birthdays. Their families were inseparable, and so, by default, they were inseparable too.
"Hey Rebecca, you wanna play house with me?" little Lucy once asked, her smile wide enough to reveal the tiny gap where her tooth had recently fallen out. She extended her small hand, bright-eyed and expectant.
