I remember being excited that Ronda's car didn't have a booster seat, and the air-conditioning actually worked. I reached up to press my palms against the vents and enjoyed the wind fluttering my black hair. Outside, the sunset seemed to set the flat, red Arizona landscape ablaze.

Ronda distracted me all evening. We made cookies and watched Beauty and the Beast on VHS. She clapped when I sang along with the animated characters and painted my nails pink while waiting for the tape to rewind. I laughed and hugged Ronda. She made me feel like I mattered. After she kissed me goodnight and clicked the lights off, I reached across the bed for my sister. She wasn't there.

Though I couldn't name the emotion back then, I felt lonely. I soaked my pillows with tears. I wanted Sedna, and some small part of me understood that Mom couldn't give me the attention Ronda had.

Baby, whatever it is that you enjoy, I want to experience them with you.

The next morning, I found Mom in the kitchen. She sat on the plastic countertop, squished between the sink and a pile of dishes, drinking from a can. Her messy ponytail of straw-blond hair matched her worn jeans and deep v-neck. I imagined its graphic of the pin-up zombie, teeth poking through its rotting jaw, wanted to bite into my flesh and eat me alive. I hated that shirt.

Mom jumped down and leaned down to hug me. She smelled of something sour masked by lavender. Over time, I would identify it as alcohol.

Mom slurred, "You're a good girl, Moray. You don't cause me problems like your sister."

I wriggled out of the hug. "Where's Sedna?" I demanded.

Mom took another swig then swirled the can. "Bathtub."

The floor squeaked as I ran to the bathroom then the door groaned as I pushed it open without knocking. Sedna's pastel bathing suit poked through her gray hair floating around her like a coffin. She cracked her eyes open to look at me and smiled.

"I live in the bathtub now." Sedna's voice was barely a whisper. She coughed. "Mommy said so."

I paused to consider this. Even as a child, this didn't make sense. "Why?"

Sedna traced the black mold growing in the bathtub's cracks with her finger. "So I can breath."

"That's stupid. The doctors should give you medicine."

"Doctors are good-for-nothings," Sedna continued, parroting our mom. "Besides, Mommy said they will rip me open and poke me full of needles if I go back to the hospital."

While I didn't understand her words, they sent goosebumps up my arm. She didn't understand fully either.

I changed into my bathing suit and grabbed a tub of toys. The water was lukewarm like Sedna'd been in it for hours when I sat down next to her. At first, Sedna lay still and watched me play with Polly Pockets and classic My Little Ponies. Eventually, she gathered the energy to join me. My fingers turned wrinkly like raisins; Senda's remained smooth. When Mom brought us hot dogs, we splashed and quacked, pretending to be ducks being fed at a pond.

"You still need to come to school with me," I commanded as I washed my plate in the tub with shampoo. It smelled like strawberries. "We're learning about the number one hundred tomorrow. That's a really big number!"

Sedna's silver eyes seemed to sparkle. "Okay. I will leave the bathtub for school."

And Sedna tried to, for a while. She brought wet towels to class and draped them over her neck. She carried a backpack of water bottles and drank constantly, but coughing and wheezing became her new normal outside the tub. And the car rides were brutal. Even with the windows rolled down, the broken air conditioner made the 80's Chevrolet Camaro a broiler. My twin hacked and whimpered until all but a blue tint paled from her face. At first, I rubbed Sedna's back and told her to breathe, but after a while, I ignored her. Having a sick sister was my normal.

One morning, while I was eating Cheerios on the bathroom floor, Sedna tried to stand up but gasped and collapsed, sending a wave splashing onto the tile and my shoes. Slumping against the tub, she shook her head then lay back down.

"Breathing hurts. I'm not going to school," Sedna whispered with a crackling voice.

"You need to go to school!" I commanded, reaching for her hand.

From across the house, Mom called for us to 'Get our butts to the door,' but Sedna rolled over with a splash and mumbled, "I can't go in the car again. I'll die."

"Please," I begged, reaching for her shoulder. "Sedna, come to school with me."

Sedna smacked my hand away. It stung. She chanted, imitating Mom when she got mad, "No. I don't wanna. I can't. Not gonna happen."

Mom's stomping echoed down the hall.

I said, "But-"

Mom slammed the door open. Her scowl contrasted the smiley face on her grocery store name tag. "Hurry it up, girls! I can't be late for work again. My boss is gonna kill me!" She paused and looked at Senda. "Why are you still in the tub?"

"Sedna said she's not going to school," I tattled. "Make her come."

"You're staying in the tub?" Mom asked.

Sedna nodded.

"Okay then," Mom agreed as she grabbed my hand and pulled me to the door. "Let's go, Moray."

I pulled against Mom and tried to dig my heels into the ground, but Mom was too strong. Her grip dug into my wrist. I cried. My arm strained as I was dragged along. "Let me go! I want Sedna!" I screeched as Mom picked me up and strapped me down into my booster seat. The hot plastic burned my skin, and I wriggled.

Mom slammed my door.

That morning, Mom drove like a maniac. My head smacked against my booster seat each time she stomped on the breaks, and horns honked when she sped through a red light. I screamed the entire way, leaving my throat raw.

"Shut up, Moray! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" Mom chanted as we pulled into the school parking lot. "Your sister. Isn't coming. She doesn't wanna come. Doesn't wanna. Not gonna happen."

I didn't listen. I wailed as she got out and opened my car door. "I want my sister! Give me Sed-"

Pain exploded across my cheek. I fell silent. I stared at Mom's red face as it registered that she'd hit me for the first time. Tears welled in my eyes. Mom never apologized. She pulled me out of the car and sped off, leaving me sick to my stomach and confused in the school parking lot. 

Darling Baby, if I get to meet you, may I have the power to control my temper, even when you're throwing a tantrum. No mother should ever hit their child.