That was Nora.
She carried sunshine wherever she went.
She tied our shoelaces when we were running late. She secretly saved Leila’s favorite candies. During thunderstorms, she always slept between us because she believed it was her job to protect both sides.
One stormy night, thunder rattled the windows so hard the entire house shook.
Leila climbed into Nora’s bed first.
I followed shortly afterward.
Without opening her eyes, Nora lifted the blanket.
“You two are terrible at pretending to be brave,” she mumbled.
Leila curled against one side.
I settled against the other.
“You’re scared too,” I whispered.
“No,” Nora answered sleepily. “I’m responsible.”
