Mina was only eight, but she’d been through a lot. After Mom passed two years ago, it was just Dad and us for a short while. Then Lenna came. She wasn’t mean, but cold and distant. Her smiles were just for Dad; with us alone, she got snappy. I left for college a year later, leaving Mina, which always troubled me.

But now, we were together, watching her favorite movie again.

“Have a good Christmas?” I asked, keeping my tone easy.

She nodded happily. “Yep! Daddy got me a doll. Lenna gave me pencils.”

“Pencils?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” she chirped, shrugging. “The twisty ones. They’re okay.”