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“I once asked my mother why she'd loved my father, and if she'd truly loved him, why she had left. He was my twin, she said. As if that were all the explanation needed to answer both questions.

Jude was not my twin. We were not two mirrors. We did not dress alike, could not be easily confused for brother and sister -- though we got looks sometimes, in restaurants. Waitresses trying to guess the dynamic. Father and daughter? Lovers? A student and professor with an inappropriate relationship?”