Chapter 22: Sisters, Always
It was really strange. I hadn’t seen Lily for ten years, but when she held my hand, I just knew it was Lily.
Some things, you never forget—the way a twin’s hand fits in yours, the shared rhythm of your steps. Her hand was smaller than I remembered, but the grip was the same—steady, sure. I wanted to say a thousand things, but all that came out was her name, soft and shaky: "Lily."
After all this time, even in the wildest corners of the White House, we’d found each other again. I knew then that no matter what names people gave us, or what roles they asked us to play, I would always know my sister—my other half, my home. And this time, nothing—not the White House walls, not a thousand rules—could keep us apart.