When she married him, she didn't realize his twin was part of the package
“Remind me,” she said into the phone. “Why am I supposed to be excited about getting my wedding pictures?”
Chava clucked her tongue. “You should be grateful. I didn’t get my album until after my second anniversary.”
“But it’s beautiful.” Naami pictured her sister’s showpiece: gilt-edged, leather-bound. Hers was identical. Her lips turned down. It wasn’t the outside that mattered.
Chava’s baby was crying in the background. Chava always cut their conversations short, and Naami felt silly, like maybe she should be the one who needed to be somewhere, do something. But she didn’t have to leave to work for another half hour, the house was spotless, and she’d cut up the vegetables for supper already.
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