38: THE GIRL WHO SHOULD'VE DIED

It never should have happened that way. We never should have gone out that day. But I’d insisted. And because I insisted, Wilma insisted. Our father could never say no when both his daughters teamed up on him. If only I’d changed my mind. If only the prospect of going to the mall for some silly clothes had felt distasteful to me. If only I hadn't insisted on riding in the backseat with him.

It had been raining, heavily. The kind of rainfall that sounds more like a storm; wind howling, windowpanes trembling, and the droplets hitting the roof, the glass, the earth with a vengeance. Mom had been too lazy to join us, curled up in bed with a romance novel and a mug of hot mint tea. Maybe that’s what had saved her. If only it’d saved Dad too. If only he’d been adamant on being left alone in his office, playing chess and sipping whiskey.

But no amount of wishing, no amount of ‘If onlys’ can change the past. I’m powerless to stop it. All I can do is remember.

I’d been annoyed with Wilma when