It’s been two weeks since my sister Maeve died. I feel like I’ve been numb since then. It’s not fair. It was dark and snowing and the guy was drunk. My parents have completely fallen apart. My mom practically lives at work now and only comes home when they make her. And my dad comes home early and gets drunk while watching Seinfeld until he falls asleep. They both lost their favorite, so their reactions are no surprise. But there’s one thing I haven’t told anyone; something that’s been eating me up: I don’t know if I miss her. I don’t know if I’m sad that she’s gone and that terrifies me.