It must have been somewhere in amongst all these thoughts, worries and questions that Frank had fallen asleep, because she suddenly woke up.
It was dark. The landing light was off.
She reached out with her foot under the covers as she always did when she woke in the night. There was no heavy, warm, snoring-purring lump down the end.
She got out of bed and crept over to the window. She slipped herself under the curtain and looked out.
She could see stars and she could tell that the moon was out, full or nearly full.
It starts then. The hungry kind of missing-Sasha that makes me feel like she’s just out of reach, not gone forever, and I’m just not trying hard enough to get to her. The thing inside me that’s always on edge drops off its cliff. And I don’t know if it’s because I’m tired or if I’ll never get used to something as simple as not making toast for my sister, but as I climb onto my bike, I feel overwhelmed and alone again. I manage to make it to the end of the block before I’m crying, my chest tightening, like someone has me pinned and is sitting on top of my body.