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This was her twin. The other half of her soul, and she couldn’t string two words together. How was she even supposed to articulate what this day meant? What Lizzie meant? How much love lived inside her for this person who had walked beside her since birth.

The cursor continued to wait patiently for her to produce words. Words that seemed too out of reach and abstract to articulate.

“Hey,” Ali mumbled.

Charlotte studied her, lips pressing into a thin line to smother her laugh when it became apparent Ali was still fast asleep.

“Hi,” she whispered back.

“Can you bring me a popsicle?”

“Sure,” Charlotte murmured, letting her head fall back against the headboard. “What color would you like?”

“Ketchup.”

“Iconic choice, love.” She paused, then smiled as an idea struck. “What should I say in my speech?”

Ali was silent long enough Charlotte thought the moment passed…

“Somethin’ from when you were little,” Ali mumbled, her body entirely still. “How amazin’ Lizzie is.”

Charlotte began typing, rough notes forming the shape of an outline.

“How you knew Sasha was the one,” Ali hummed. “Love… Wishes for the future… Somethin’ funny.”

Memory and intent wove together, and suddenly the words were there. Fingers flew across the keys with a pleasant mechanical click.

“Thank you, Lina.”

A second later, Ali snorted softly and sank deeper into sleep.

Charlotte studied her, and something warm tightened in her chest until she was achingly full.

36

ALI

Charlotte moved through the venue like a goddess. Ali trailed in her wake, happily watching the sway of Charlotte’s hips and how she worked the room, far more settled after her nap and their talk.

Ali felt confident in her own strapless dress. Pleated satin hugged her curves just right, rich carmine-colored fabric encased her bust and hips before draping straight to the floor. But the part Ali knew would have Charlotte’s fingers itching later was the slit climbing high up her thigh, exposing the black ink of her tattoo with every step.

She received more than a few compliments on the dark green eyeliner applied in a dramatic wing. Thanks to Charlotte, she stood a little taller and smiled a little easier.

The tension between the family was still there, a low hum beneath everything, but it wasn’t choking anymore. Everything was on the mend.

“How are you doing?” Natasha asked, appearing beside her, wearing a teal sheath dress that looked incredible against her rich brown skin, clinging to every gorgeous curve. “I meant to text you.”

Natasha gave Ali’s shoulder a brief, affectionate pat. Ali noticed how reserved Natasha was about touch. Lilah hugged her and Natasha accepted it, but she rarely initiated. One second there, gone the next, her hand lifted to push her mix of spiral curls and neat, fresh braids back over her shoulder.

“Better,” Ali said honestly, not wanting to trip Natasha’s internal lie detector. “I took a seven-hour nap.”

Natasha’s eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? I nap for more than twenty minutes and I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.”

“It’s true,” Zuri chimed in. “She gets droopy and everything.”

“Aw,” Ali said, logging that detail away as she swiped a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. “Maybe you’re dehydrated?”

Dinner followed soon after, and Ali, who hadn’t finished her breakfast and slept right through lunch, was ravenous. Charlotte sat beside her, leg bouncing beneath the table.