I sat in my car. I was supposed to be dead. At least, my wrist said so. October 16, 2024. I looked at my phone. October 17, 2024. I drove to my sister’s house. She answered after the second knock. “Sorry, I’m not interested in solar panels or finding Jesus or whatever you’re trying to sell.”
“Very funny, Cassie. I’m supposed to be dead. Look. My wrist says yesterday.”
Cassie took a step back. “Do I know you?”
“I’m your twin brother.”
“I believe you’re mistaken. I don’t have a brother.”
She backed up another step and closed the door.