I Hired a Stranger Who Looked Exactly Like My Dead Sister — Then She Found Her Hidden Diary

Part 2

I knocked on the wood before fear could completely stop me.

Brenda, I said, my voice barely louder than the howling wind outside.

It is Craig, please, can we talk?

Silence stretched long enough for me to believe I was entirely too late.

Then the door opened a few inches, revealing Brenda with tired eyes and a very guarded face.

She had been crying, and I could see it in the tight way she held herself, braced for more disappointment.

I owe you a massive apology, I said quietly.

And I owe you the truth, if you will hear me out.

She studied my face for a long moment, reading the desperate sincerity in my eyes, then opened the door wider.

I am listening, she said.

We sat at the kitchen table as pale morning light finally began to fill the cold room.

I held Megan’s diary with both hands like something incredibly sacred.

I failed my sister, I began, staring down at the worn leather cover.

At least that is what I told myself for the past five years.

I promised my mother I would always protect Megan, but when she got sick, I could not reach a doctor in time.

She died believing I would save her.

My voice broke, but I forced myself not to stop talking.

I buried her and shut the entire world out, believing that living alone was the harsh price I had to pay.

Then I opened the diary and read Megan’s final words aloud to Brenda.

Megan wrote that she did not blame me, that she wanted me to live fully, and that she hoped I would be happy.

Brenda covered her mouth, fresh tears spilling freely down her pale cheeks.

She forgave you, she whispered.

I never forgave myself, I said, looking right at her.

And yesterday when you found this, I lashed out because facing that truth hurt far more than holding onto the guilt.

I looked at her then, really looking at the woman sitting across from me, seeing past the haunting resemblance.

You came here needing work, and I hired you because you reminded me of my sister.

That was wrong of me.

But keeping you here now because I see you for exactly who you are feels entirely right.

Brenda’s hands trembled as she rested them in her lap.

I want you to stay because you are Brenda, I said.

Because you understand loss, because you brought life back into this empty house, and because I do not want to hide anymore.

You want me to stay? she asked slowly.

Not just through New Year’s Eve?

Yes, I said, as long as you want to stay, just as yourself.

She looked down at the table, then back up at me with tears shining brightly in her dark eyes.

I have been alone for a very long time, she said softly.

I do not know how to stop being alone.

Neither do I, I said honestly.

But we can try to learn.

For a long moment, Brenda said absolutely nothing, and then she nodded slowly.

All right, she said, I will stay.

Relief hit me so hard I had to close my eyes, feeling five years of heavy ice finally melting away.

But how do two people who have only known loss for so long actually learn to build a life together?