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the brown into a hypnotic shade that demanded my attention. Her chin-length blonde hair, accessorized with a bejeweled headband, was very different from the features of my mother...our mother. The photograph of our dad that Aunt Leah had showed me flashed in my mind. They shared the same smile.
    Sadie’s bohemian style was simple like Mom’s but would have been too fashionable for Mom’s liking.  Yet, there was something in Sadie’s presence I recognized as familiar. The warm, personable glow radiating from every inch of her petite frame was undeniably genetic.
    I realized that I had been staring at this poor girl for too long to be considered normal etiquette and reached to shake her hand.
    “I’m Alex. So I guess you heard?”
    “Weird right?” 
    “Secret siblings and magic? Nah, what’s weird about that?”
    “Only everything.” She giggled. Her laugh was as I predicted—energetic and pure.
    “So, I met Aunt Leah,” I said, taking a seat on the top step. “She was full of interesting stories.”
    “More like bizarre, life-changing stories,” Sadie said, still giggling as she plopped down next to me.
    “I planned to come visit you. Aunt Leah said you were out of town.”
    “Drama club trip. I wasn’t sure if I should come here but I would never relax unless I tried.”
    “I know the feeling but I am not sure how to begin sorting through this madness.”
    “I’ve got all summer,” she said with a hopeful grin.
    There was something very magnetic about Sadie. I imagined that she never met a stranger and that people were naturally drawn to her. The heart on her sleeve was as big as she was and the smile on her face dared you to try to not love her.
    “Will Aunt Leah be ok ay with that?”
    “It’s not like I ran away from home,” she said. “She knew where I was going and I called her when I got here. Plus, I spend my summer vacations at music camp or something dorky like that. This time, I thought I’d try to get to know my sister.”
    I couldn’t have said no even if I had wanted to. Something told me Sadie always got her way.
    “It’s strange, isn’t it?” I asked. “To go your whole life adjusting to one existence and in the blink of eye you feel like you’re living someone else’s life.”
    “I think that can happen to anyone. We just have a much more interesting story than most people.”
    “Understatement!”
    “So what do we do now?”
    “I guess we can just take it slow and get to know each other,” I said. “You want to go first?”
    “Oh, I’d be happy to!” she said, practically shrieking.
    Never for one second did I believe Sadie would have a problem divulging the story of her life but I did wonder how far she would go.
    “Well, I am Sadie Ann Ryan,” she began. “My philosophy is ‘Everything happens for a reason.’ It helps deal with the bad if you believe it has a purpose.”
    “I never thought about that,” I said. “Continue.”
    And continue she did. Her tales of life in Atlanta with Aunt Leah all flooded together in a long run-on sentence. Sadie strung together stories of the vacations she and Aunt Leah took to the beach each summer where Sadie developed a slight addiction to the shaved ice drinks that were carted up and down the beach by those “poor girls in bikinis” and the game nights they would have every Wednesday night and the time Sadie almost ran into the front porch of their house when Aunt Leah tried to teach her to drive.
    For my beloved porch’s sake I was thankful she worked that out.
    Sadie announced that she had just completed her junior year of high school and was quick to point out that she would be seventeen in August, since most people thought she was younger because she was so tiny.
    I listened in silent fascination as her jubilant illustrations revealed a life that sounded similar to mine. Although, her outlook on her life mirrored her free-spirit flowing white dresses and big sunglasses, while mine made my personality feel