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The first time Viva saw her sister, she was a baby.
She was so small, with light pink skin like her and their moms, and darker hair like their pops. Her hair was long enough to give her a headband to hold it up, but not long enough to braid more than one loose knot. That was fine, Viva thought, when they got older together, she’d get to braid her sister’s hair all the time, and she would teach Poppy how to do hers. They had time, she was sure, especially if they managed to escape like their pops promised.
The second time Viva saw her sister, she wasn’t a baby anymore.
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