Winter in Full Bloom by Anita Higman

you fell just now and hurt yourself, trying to find me.”
    “It’s okay. I’m just so thrilled to meet you.”
    Camille stuck out her hand.
    I took her hand in mine and gave it a jovial shake. Her skin felt cool and her muscles shivery. “Do you mind it if I give you a hug?”
    “Of course not.”
    At first I wasn’t sure if she meant a yes or no. I paused but when she took a step closer to me I took her in my arms for a good bear hug. The kind Julie always loved. She smelled of mint. Nice. But Camille didn’t return the embrace. Her arms merely moved from her waist to her side. My spirit felt a little crushed. Oh, dear God, what’s wrong? Why didn’t my sister seem happy over our reunion? I released Camille and pulled back to study her. “I realize this is kind of sudden. Maybe I should have called you first. I didn’t have your number. I wasn’t sure—”
    “I didn’t send my phone number or address for a reason,” she said.
    “Oh, I see.” But I didn’t understand at all. The passersby gaped at us. A woman’s purse bumped me. “You know, maybe it would be easier if we went inside. Somewhere cozy so we can talk.”
    I suddenly remembered Marcus, whom I’d forgotten to introduce. I glanced around and found him. He’d backed away from us—I assume to give us some privacy, but there was little to be had on the sidewalk. I gestured to Marcus to come over to meet my sister. Maybe he could add some warmth to our reunion. “Camille, this is my new Aussie friend, Marcus Averill. He’s been helping me… to find you. I don’t know what I would have done without him.”
    “Hi.” Camille smiled, but didn’t reach out her hand to him.
    “Good to meet you,” Marcus said to her. “I know Lily is excited to finally meet you.”
    “That’s nice.” Camille turned back to me. “I guess what I have to say can be said right here.” She tugged on her ear, just the way I used to do when I was a kid.
    “Okay.” I had a feeling her next words were going to devastate me, so I wanted to run and hide. “Yes?”
    “I have a message for your mother and for you,” Camille said.
    Even amidst the noise on the street and the hustle-bustle of people, the air seemed to crackle with nervous energy and ire. The world stopped its spinning as it waited—as I waited—for Camille’s reply. For a sign of any kind that she might welcome me into her life.
    Camille coughed again. This time with more fervor.
    “Are you okay?”
    “No. I’ve never been okay. That’s the problem.”
    “I don’t know what you mean.” I tried to keep the rising panic out of my voice.
    “I didn’t send my phone number and address because part of me didn’t want to have anything to do with your mother or father or with any of you. But I couldn’t seem to sever things completely. Another part of me wanted you to know what I’ve been through. I felt I deserved that small courtesy.”
    “Of course. I will—”
    “You can tell Mr. and Mrs. Gray that they were heartless to give me away simply because I was sickly. What kind of a mother does that to her child at one year old?”
    “I had no idea that’s what happened.” Father had actually agreed with Mother? To do something so merciless? I clutched my throat, desperate for her to understand me. “Mother told me you were taken away from her, but I had no idea what really happened.”
    Camille burbled out a laugh laced with bitterness. “So, this is the lie they told themselves and everyone around them.”
    “I doubt she’s told anyone about you until now, except, of course, when you were first born. She would have had to tell some people then. Honestly, with such a horrible scenario Mother would be ashamed I’m sure. I hope she would be ashamed anyway. And I don’t know about Father. He’s been dead since I was nine.”
    “Oh.”
    “So much has happened. So many years …” I reached out to Camille, but seeing that she was already backing away, I dropped my hand. “Please,