I loved Lorie.

Loved.

Past tense.

When she was an amiable creature with her timid ways, life was easier. She always preferred to be unnoticed, unimportant, a mere shadow of mine; one content with staying at home in her cosy corner of the world while I hung out with friends and celebrated the New Year in style. I could always come home to my Lorie, who waited with a ready ear for my recent tales and the latest gossip shared among my friends. I never worried when she joined the girls and me; she never partook in the teasing or arguments; was never the one to start a conversation with some lame line. She wouldn't laugh at Terry's idea of fashion or Nicole's whining discontentment with life, despite having been born with a golden spoon in her mouth. My Lorrie kept her opinions to herself and never asked for much. Of all the women in my life, I had loved Lorrie the best...

Yes... I had loved Lorie.

She'd been an uninteresting, introverted creature. After the accident, she became assertive and bold. The way she commanded everyone's attention with her confident chin and winning smirk annoyed me. I never hated a person more. And to you, dear reader, I divulge this secret I've kept for years... it might have been better had she not breathe again...

~

Everything happened so fast. A screaming of horns and squealing tires mixed with a thundering boom and grating metal that could break one's teeth swallowed the air in a flash. I was in the car ahead, and though I was unharmed, seeing the wreckage sent my stomach plummeting to the heated asphalt. I didn't even realise I'd urinated myself. By the time I reached the wreck, Dad and my boyfriend had dragged her bloodied body from the crash. I threw up on the roadside as the pungent fumes of burnt leather, rubber, gasoline and burning flesh smacked me in the nose. My imagination painted grotesque pictures of her face: skinless, protruding bones, broken jaw, burnt out eyes... it was awful.

An ambulance appeared out of the blue and I wanted to kill Dominic, Julia's boyfriend who'd been driving, but I didn't have long to brood. He'd died instantaneously.

Her condition was critical, and every day was a struggle. The family prayed for her recovery, but I'd never been the religious child under Dad's roof and simply hoped for the best and prepared for the worst. But somehow, for some reason, she pulled through. And God, how I later wished she hadn't... it would've been easier for me then.

Weeks of therapy were necessary for Lorie to recover an ounce of her bodily functions, and, in all those months, she refused to see me. Secretly, I was relieved because I feared what the accident had done to her face. Dad kept me posted with his frequent visits and comforted me with the fact that she mayn't have remembered me had I come sooner. However, the day of reconnecting arrived, and I wished to be anywhere else than with her.

"Kate!" she squealed from her bed. My lips pushed themselves into as genuine a grin as they were capable of, and I stared at the thick casts on both her legs and one arm. I had weeks to imagine what that precious face had come to, and it wasn't a pleasant picture. I fumbled with the little gift-wrapped box in my hand and pulled my purse straps over my shoulder.

"How are you feeling, Lorie?"

She gave a quiet laugh.

"Well, I'm broken in several places, it appears my memory isn't what it's supposed to be, my ribs hurt, I'm sore all over, and sleep's impossible unless the good doctor pumps me with pills, so I really cannot complain."

I raised my eyes then. It wasn't like Lorie to display sarcasm and I frowned at the girl on the bed. Her bold eyes held my own and despite the helplessness of her condition, her gaze was challenging, if not defiant. She smirked at me.

"You haven't moved from the door yet. Are you afraid of your invalid sister?" She lowered her eyes after a moment. "You are." She ran a bruised left hand over her shorn head, pausing at the heavily bandaged place. "You shouldn't have come."

I stepped forward.

"Don't whisper, Lorie, I can't hear you."

"You shouldn't have come! I never should have agreed to see you, you can't even look at me." She reached beneath her pillow and tossed a green and gold wrapped box at my feet. "Take it and leave."

"Lorie—"

"Get out! Get out, get out, get out!"

At the front desk, I asked the receptionist to put my gift on her bedside when she fell asleep. I was ashamed and heartbroken when I opened her gift, a delicate gold locket bearing the words:

"If I can't remember, you'll remember for me."

When Lorie finally came home, there was an awkward air in the house. My friends tried to make her feel comfortable, but the exchanged looks and whispers that went on when they thought she wasn't listening made me worry. Dad remained natural and caring; he'd missed his baby about the house. My girls pulled me aside near the punch bowl.

"Think she'll walk again?" said Nicole.

"What do her facial scars look like?" asked Terry.

"How bad are her issues?" said Julia.

"I don't think Lloyd will be interested in her after this. You know the kind of girls he likes, right?"

"I'm sure we all know, Nicole."

We whipped our heads around and met Lorie's cool gaze. Dad flushed and threw me a disappointed look.

"I-we-we didn't—"

"Didn't what? Expect me to hear that?"

The girls shifted on their feet and averted their eyes. I rubbed my bare arms as a sudden chill licked my skin.

Lorie suddenly laughed, bringing a relieved smile to Dad's careworn face. She waved a playful hand at me.

"Goodness, look at your face, Katie! Loosen up, a little. You can at least pretend I'm still normal, for my sake, if not your own. And you all," turning to the ladies, "needn't worry about Lloyd... he never really liked me, anyway." Dad kissed her on the head and whispered something that made her laugh. The girls kept their mouths shut for the rest of the evening, mostly because of the looks Dad divided between them; Mr. Sinclair was a strict man, especially where feminine silliness was concerned.

Other relatives popped over, and my girls slipped away as embraces and kisses went round. I watched from the sidelines as old aunts and uncles cooed and coddled Lorie, and she, like a sweet, cheery invalid, embraced it all with graceful patience. Before the night ended, she was the centre of everyone's attention, laughing at all dad's jokes, keenly interested in the new repairs Uncle was doing on his boat-she even wanted to know everything about cousin Arty's band and the aunts' embroidering projects. This wasn't like my Lorie. She never offered opinions or advice when asked. Never showed acute interest in anything besides books on astrology and science, so her interest in the little bundle of classic novels uncle Ned brought her puzzled me immensely.

"Look how well she's bearing it, Phil," said an uncle to Dad. "She'll be up and moving in no time, won't you, darling?"

Lorie gazed at the stars a moment before turning dancing eyes to all present.

"Sure!" she patted her casts as if they were obedient dogs. "I'll be out and about before you know it. After all, I mean to help you on your boat before summer's gone."

Everyone laughed except me.

Whether by fate, pure determination or luck, Lorie's body healed faster than expected and as promised, she spent the remainder of her summer with uncle and his boat and due to her early starts and late returns, I rarely saw her; it was as though we avoided each other, or rather, I avoided her, purposely sleeping in until she left for the docks. Dad made an issue of my not being as involved as I used to and eventually, I was making excuses to be away from home too, and the funny thing was, I didn't understand why.

When thanksgiving rolled around, I stood in stunned silence as the fat, beautifully golden turkey adorned the centre of the table with Lorie beaming over it.

"Isn't it perfectly gorgeous?" said my aunt, practically dabbing tears from her eyes.

"Blimey, you mean to tell me Lorie played chef in the kitchen?" said cousin Arty.

"I didn't play chef, silly boy," she said, throwing her apron at his face.

"That's right, she didn't. My darling took it upon herself to handle dinner this year." Dad planted a fond kiss on her temple.

"And she didn't burn down the house?" Someone smacked him in the head.

"Kate, you alright?"

"I doubt she is. Lorie was never interested in cooking before, let alone good at it, and now look at this. And we thought Kate's burnt pancakes were good!" He received another slap.

Lorie smiled gently.

"That was a very naughty thing to say, Arty. Kate can improve, just as I have and besides, all my accomplishments I owe to Auntie."

Aunt shook her head.

"No, no, dearie, you've always had a knack for the kitchen. You just never knew it."

I smiled.

"Maybe aunt's right, Lorie. Perhaps it was always in you." She gave me a strange look, as if pondering something.

"What is it?"

She interlaced her fingers and straightened her shoulders.

"From now on I would like you all to call me Delores"

Dad smiled from ear to ear.

"Why?" I couldn't help asking, causing everyone to turn to me. "We've always called you Lorie, and you've never complained before. Why make changes now?" Lorie's smile faltered at my tone, but she quickly brightened.

"Because I want to," she said simply. "Change is okay, and my name is Delores... besides, nothing is quite as it used to be, now, is it?" she levelled a look at me before smiling up at Dad.

There was no arguing with her. A lot had changed.

Things got worse from then on. Lorie shocked us all by joining a polo team and taking cooking lessons on the weekends. She went out on the uncle's boat, went to all cousin's band performances, took up sewing with our aunts and got a job as Dad's personal secretary at the office. Nothing seemed too much for her and soon everyone called her Busy Del. She and I rarely spoke then and more than once I glimpsed a longing look in her eyes but ignored it; my Lorie died, and a stranger had taken her place.

~

"Girls' night out!"

I was ready to go in my high heels, fitted mini dress and fur coat. I snatched my keys and purse from the side table, checked myself in the mirror once more, then shouted over my shoulder.

"Bye, Dad."

"Alice Kate Sinclair, come here a minute."

Whenever Mr. Sinclair used our full names, it meant trouble. But I was an adult who'd soon have her own place and lately hadn't gotten into any compromising situations. I inhaled, held up my nose, and strode into the kitchen.

"You're going out again, I see."

I nodded. Why couldn't he understand I needed my girls in order to feel normal? To feel important? Among them, I was still on my glorious pedestal. I was madame popular in high-school and college. I was the one everyone was proud of, the one with accomplishments and a high academical success. The one with the pretty friends, the girl every guy wanted to date—that was me! I've become small in the eyes of my family while Lorie—no, while Delores gained attention and favour. I needed to get away from it all, from them.

"Well, I'm supposed to meet the girls so..."

"Don't you think you ought to invite your sister?"

"No."

He raised a brow.

"No?"

"No," I said again. I forced a smile and waved a hand. "No, um, I, uh, I meant to ask her, but she's been so busy I thought I'd let her rest tonight."

"She misses you, Kate. Don't think I haven't noticed the two of you aren't speaking."

"So, you're saying it's my fault?"

"Is it someone else's?"

"Lorie knows where to find me when she needs me, Dad."

"Oh, really?" He stood from his chair and crossed his arms. "When she asked you to join her at the polo club, what did you say?"

"Dad—"

"And each time she asked you to come out on your uncle's boat, how many excuses did you give until eventually you started avoiding her altogether?"

I lowered my head.

"She asked for a hand in the kitchen the other day and says you told her, and I quote, 'to piss off' when she confronted you about your attitude later. What was that about?"

"I'm sorry, I was just having a bad day, that's all."

He looked at me for a solid minute, then said, "I'm not the one who needs to hear your apology, Katie."

~

I took Delores along with me, and the change in her appearance stunned me. In all the months that passed, it was as if the Lorie I knew shed her skin to reveal a completely different being, like a caterpillar after leaving the cocoon. The blonde hair I'd known since she was fourteen, she traded for her natural chestnut locks, which she wore in short bouncy curls about her face. Her skin displayed the delicious bronze glow from days in the sun, and her dark eyes sparkled like the merry bubbles in a champagne flute. The pale, skinny bookworm who huddled by the fire wanting nothing to do with anyone or anything was gone. This new version of Lorie possessed a zeal for life and those she held dear. I frowned at the young woman beside me, who looked truly stunning in her modest dress that did not strike me as club appropriate.

"Your hands are clammy," I said when we neared the entrance. "What's the matter?"

"I'm nervous," she whispered, squeezing my palm.

And there she was, my Lorie again. Her modest clothes and shy demeanour were maybe the only things that remained of my long-lost sister. And if it was all I had left, I'd keep it as close to my heart as possible. I smiled at her, genuinely, for the first time in a while.

"Take a deep breath and only do what you feel comfortable with, okay? It'll be fine."

She nodded.

Everything went smoothly until Nicole called for shots all around. Lorie smiled and shook her head.

"What's wrong, babe?" Nicole tilted her head, her glass sloshing about. "Too shy for a drink?"

"Not for me, thank you."

"Kate's having one."

"Then she may, of course. I do not object."

"What?!" she grabbed my hand, upsetting my drink. "Kate, make her drink rounds with us. Come on!"

"Sit down, Cole," Terry pleaded. "You'll ruin my Giorgio Armani dress!"

Nicole swayed and gave an animated cheer with her glass.

"I thought you were the good little sister who did as she's told. You know, that one you don't have to worry about when it comes to careers and guys because she knows how to stay out of the way and be a good girl. Am I right, Kate?"

Terry choked on her drink while Julia and I stared jaw-dropped at stupid Cole, who threw back her shot, yelled 'Cheers bitches!' then giggled like a crazed hyena. The pounding in my ears broke through the vibrations of the music with emphasized chagrin. I rubbed my hands together and dared to meet my sister's gaze: she flushed, clenched her jaw and her eyes watered. She sighed and closed her eyes for a minute. When she reopened them, she was in complete control and once again I glimpsed that unwelcomed change. Her lips turned up in a half-smirk.

Julia shifted and cast quick glances between us.

"The girls and I were saying how much we admired your new look, Lorie. It really suits you."

"Please, Julia, call me Delores," she said, caressing the short curls with an affectionate hand. "And it's funny you should say that when just an hour ago you were laughing at how ridiculously 1930s it made me look, say, and I quote 'like one of those ugly girls they thought were pretty just because they were in sitcoms'."

Julia coloured and Terry looked away. Nichole laughed outright.

"I knew you were a bitch, Julia Maybourne."

"Well, I wouldn't say she's the only one among us." said Lorie, tracing circles on her arm.

"What are you doing?" I whispered fiercely. She only smiled at me.

"I hope you're not suggesting I'm like her?"

Lorie waved a hand.

"Oh, Nicole, you're simply a pathetic case, really. For a girl who loves the attention of men and enjoys leading them by a thread just to cut the strings for her own pleasure and amusement, you really cannot handle it when someone gives you a taste of your own medicine. I presume that is why you're here getting drunk? Because Mr. what's-his-name was no fool and found a better piece of steak for dinner?"

Julia's jaw dropped, and Terry quickly intercepted a trembling Nicole.

"Kate, you'd better deal with your sister," Terry said with a meaningful look.

Lorie crossed her legs and raised her brow.

"Now, that wouldn't be fair, would it? You're not innocent yourself, are you sweetie?" Terry's face paled. I grabbed Lorie's arm.

"That's enough, Lorie!" She spun to face me.

"It's enough when I say it's enough, Katie. I'm tired of being last in your graces." She mastered her emotions, then turned to look at me again with a pitiful look.

"I think Terry has something important to tell you."

Julia stood with clenched fists.

"Kate, you were right: your sister has changed, and it isn't for the better. Get her out of here before she does or says something she'll regret."

"Something I'll regret? No... I won't regret a thing. And yes, I have changed and now can see the kind of people my beloved sister surrounds herself with: snakes calling themselves friends. Tell me, Terry, how long have you been seeing Cedric Castling?"

I spin towards my friends.

"What?"

"She doesn't know what she's talking about, Katie," Julia said, glaring at Lorie.

"Why are you talking?!" I snapped. Nicole fell back in a drunken mess.

"Blast, the shit's blown, Terry."

"What the hell, Nicole!?"

"I'm not the only one getting burnt tonight, bitches. If I go down, you two go as well!"

"Fuck you, Cole!"

"You've been seeing my boyfriend?!" it wasn't really a question as Terry's shamefaced expression was as good as a confession. She shook her head, not meeting my eyes.

"I'm sorry, Kate."

"And you all knew?!"

"Of course, we knew!" Julia blew back. "I'm surprised your so-called idiot sister figured it out before you did. Cedric never cared for you!"

"Shut up, Julia!" Terry snapped.

"It's true!"

"Like hell it is! We all know you're pissed because you didn't get him yourself!"

Nicole waved a hand as if holding a flag. "Like I said, B-I-T-C-H!"

"Nicole, I'll kill your drunken ass!"

I fled outside and walked, giving no thought to direction, only wanting to get away from everything and everyone. I resented Mum for leaving, friends for betraying my trust, my boyfriend, and what was more, I was angry at Delores.

How could she have been so cruel to do such a thing to me? The truth hurt and the thought that she found amusement in exposing the disloyalty of my friends hurt me more than what they'd done. Or did it? Was I simply ashamed of having preferred them to her all this time? Could my anger really be towards Lorie or was at myself? No! Nonsense... she was in the wrong just as well as they were. I didn't want to see her again. I didn't want to see anyone again.

"Katie!"

I gritted my teeth and kept walking.

"Katie, please slow down and talk to me."

I focused on my breathing, trying not to feel the numbness of my hands. Someone caught my elbow.

"Kate, stop dammit!"

"Piss off, Lorie!" She took a step back.

"Are you mad at me?"

I threw my head back and laughed my pain into the wind.

"God, you were always a dunce, Lorie. No, I'm not mad, I'm hyperventilating."

She studied me for a minute, opening her mouth only to shut it again. At last, she stomped her boots and tried to place my coat over my shoulders.

"You'll catch your death in this cold." I snatched it from her.

"Thanks, but no thanks. I don't need your help."

She narrowed her eyes at me.

"Really, now? That's how you want to behave, like some spoiled rich girl whose dad says won't let have access to his credit due to reckless spending?"

"Leave me alone." I turned away and hadn't gone five paces before I heard her steps behind me.

"I said go away." I gave her a shove and she, unprepared for an attack, fell back on the pavement.

A series of expressions crossed her pained face. "You had to know."

"And I would have!" I said. "On my time, when I was ready. You have no right to pry your nose into my life, Lorie. You'd never have done it before and now... nothing's private with you!"

"Private?" She got to her feet. "Your so-called life is a play, Kate! Those girls wrote the script and you're just acting out the scenes—a puppet with three masters. How can you not see it? They were using you! Friendship my ass! They were nothing before you started hanging with them. With you came everything: guys, popularity, parties, shopping sprees—the works! You made them feel smart, pretty, accepted—they leeched off of you!"

I shook my head.

"It's not true." She stared at me as if I were some creature straight out of Looney Toons.

"Kate Sinclair, you're living in denial."

"I don't care! You've ruined everything, Lorie, even before tonight. You just..."

She searched my face, then froze as if she found something she dreaded.

"You hate me, Kate."

And there it was. For the first time since the accident, I realised what ticked at the back of my head buried somewhere beneath the turmoil and confusion. Those deep brown eyes and dark hair that had belonged to the woman who used to kiss me before bed and dance to Elvis Presley. The one who laughed with dad at breakfast and spun my sister about the garden. She who helped me through algebra but wasn't there when Lorie struggled through fractions. She wasn't there when Lorrie made her first score in soccer. Wasn't there for her tenth, eleventh, twelfth or thirteenth birthday and never sent a postcard at Christmas or phoned at New Year's. Never knew Lorrie dyed her hair at fourteen because everyone always said she looked like Mum, and she hated it. She left our dad for someone else and never came back... I saw this woman in my sister's face, walk, talk, and I knew then I hated Lorie.

"Yes, Delores," I said quietly, surprising her by using her full name. "I've hated you ever since the accident, ever since I saw you in that hospital bed that afternoon. It was hate, only I didn't know it."

She looked up at the starry sky and gave a sad smile.

"I knew it. I had just hoped..." she shook her head chasing away a thought. "But no, it can't go back to the way it was, can it?" A ray of hope shone somewhere in her eyes.

"No, it can't." Her light extinguished. She held out her hand.

"I guess this means goodbye then." I shook her hand, but she held me and pulled me into an embrace.

"I will always love you, Katie, although you can never love me."

I pulled away and walked off. The last thing I heard before hailing a cab was the gentle sobbing that had once belonged to Lorie. Perhaps it would have ended differently had I turned back, had I apologised for being a jerk of a sister and promised to start fresh, but to say I did would be a lie and a lie wouldn't fit with the rest of the story.

~

Anne Delores Sinclair and I became mutual strangers; our careers took us separate ways and our worlds couldn't be farther apart. She never called on my birthday or came home for the holidays. At first, our rift pained Dad, but eventually, he learned to cope. Delores became a career woman in her own quiet way, and her personal life remained a mystery to even those closest to her. Dad perhaps knew a lot, but I never asked, and so he never divulged. I became successful too—money wise, but happiness was a long way off. Only parties, music and drinks were strong enough to convince me that I was happy and for a while, it was enough.

~

The phone at my desk rang, disturbing the heated argument between Jim Hardy and me. Sandra Dean, as always, stood as mediator.

"Would you look at that? Someone's actually calling you." Sandra swatted his arm and gave me the 'just ignore him' look.

"I'm not taking that," I pointed a manicured finger at the phone, "until my annoying—"

"And gorgeous," he added, as if he were reading my mind.

Bastard.

"Don't interrupt—co-worker makes his point." He studied me with a blank expression on his perfect features, then leaned down and whispered,

"It might be important, Miss Kate."

Bigger bastard! I thought when his cologne brushed my senses. Sandra turned away to hide a smirk.

"Kate Sinclair... Oh, hi, Dad." Thankfully, Jim walked over to the window, allowing me to focus, and Sandra perched on the edge of my desk.

"Is it important? 'Cause I'm really busy at the moment."

I froze, my hands tightening around the receiver. Sarah tilted her head at me and Jim, sensing something was wrong, looked back.

"How?" I said at last.

"A car accident, Kate. She-she was on her way to... to see you."

"See me? Why?"

"She wanted to straighten some things out. She... she said... she needed to fix things... to apologise."

"Kate, honey?"

"I'm still here... I—" I cleared my throat. "Thanks for calling Dad. I'll be down as soon as I'm finished, okay?"

Sandra stepped behind my chair and rubbed my shoulders while Jim took his place at the front of my desk.

"That didn't sound good. What's up?" he said after a minute of silence.

I sighed; for the first time in a long time, I felt light.

"You're crying." He rushed away and returned with a glass of water. I wiped my eyes and smiled at him.

"What happened?" Sarah asked, stroking my hair.

"She's gone."

And I cried, but to this day, no one knows the true meaning of my tears. I cried because I was free; because at last... I could be happy again.