Someone keeps breaking into Iz's house and leaving messages telling her to leave Rob alone, and soon Liz fears for her own life. Liz also discovers that Iz had been seeing a biker. She seems to trust Rob, Iz's on-again-off-again boyfriend, but his ex, Amy Rose is in a coven. When Isabel is murdered, Liz immediately flies back to the States, where she slips into Isabel's life with startling ease. Elizabeth's been traveling the world, while Isabel lives with their reclusive father. Losing the bond between us was like a wound that would not heal something that you just have to deal with.Elizabeth and Isabel are twins who have been separated since age 3, when their parents got divorced. Who else is going to be creating those plays with her? We are twin sisters, right? Our friendship was like the Titanic hard to sink and harder to raise back up. We thought we would be best friends forever, and maybe we will be. We were so used to being together under the same conditions, same hopes, fears, and dreams. We tried to maintain our friendship, and you would think it would have been possible since we were so close but slowly we drifted apart. She drove me to achieve all I had aspired to accomplish. We were joined at the hip, as though God had super glued us together that first day we met. After critiquing them, we would perform them on the swing set for our families. We would create plays about a technically advanced space world. My reminiscing brought me back to our trips to the zoo, our great girl scout camp, Halloween costumes, birthday parties, and our favorite pastime, writing plays. Our trips to the grocery store with either of our parents, always brought the question, 'Are you two twins?' After awhile I found myself saying, 'Yes.'. Our parents assumed that just about every weekend involved a sleepover. She instantly became a member of my family, and I, hers.

Every moment of my elementary and junior high education held a place for her. From that moment on, Lauren and I became inseparable. My desire to make a friend overtook the tears and I returned the greeting with a smile. I gazed into the bright brown eyes of my classmate. Tears flowed as my mother left me standing by the book bag hooks. Thirty-six eager eyes glanced towards me. I flashback to the first day of my Catholic education. As I flip through my photo album, memories engulf my heart and mind.

Twin sisters by janice harrell