The green dress I’d bought Claire was still in her bedroom when my phone slipped beneath her couch. I reached into the narrow gap and pulled out my phone—and an old photograph. My stomach dropped. It showed me at eight years old beside a girl wearing purple glasses. I had never given Claire that photograph. I turned it over. “Nora + Ethan, Summer Reading Club.” Beneath it, in Claire’s handwriting, were five words: “Found Ethan today. Tell him.” The date was the exact day Claire and I had matched on Tinder.

When Claire returned wearing the green dress, I held up the photograph. Her smile disappeared. “Where did you get that?” “Your couch.” She admitted she had known who I was before we matched. The girl in the photograph was Nora, her younger half-sister. She told me we had been childhood friends at the Pine Street library. Then she revealed Nora had died years ago. I stared at Claire. “Why did you find me?” She whispered, “Because Nora once told me something about you.”