Each year, my son planted sunflowers in memory of his twin sister who passed away—then one morning, we discovered them all cut down, with a white box left behind.

“What if someone found her?” he kept saying. “What if someone took care of her this whole time? What if she didn’t know who she was? What if she’s been trying to come home?”

I listened.

Not because I believed every word.

But because I wanted to.

I wanted to live inside that possibility for just one hour.

I didn’t even tell my parents at first. I wanted continue reading …