
Erin's my twin sister. That's what people used to think when they saw us. Mom made us the clothes from the same material, and we both had dark hair and skin and blue eyes. She's the one who would write letters on my back until I would fall asleep. I'd sneak across into her room so she could tell me stories, and she'd spell her name or the alphabet.
Happy Birthday, Erin. I hope your day was great. Love, your twin.
