But sometimes the most painful secrets are not buried in distant places.
Sometimes they are hidden inside the very walls of the home where you grew up.
And sometimes, after decades of silence, the truth returns in the most unexpected way.
For me, it came back in the form of an old cream-colored sweater.
A sweater with a yellow sunflower.
And a small wooden object hidden beneath the fabric.
Chapter One: Seven Minutes Apart
People always asked what it was like to have an identical twin.
As children, Laura and I never knew how to answer that question.
To us, being twins was simply normal.
We had never known another way to exist.
We shared a bedroom until we were thirteen. We had matching bicycles when we were eight. We hated the same vegetables and loved the same cartoons. We knew exactly how the other one took her tea, which songs made her cry, and which teachers she secretly disliked.
