All my life I’ve been looking over my shoulder for my sister. We were inseparable until she stepped into the Guyandotte River, plunged into a current, and drowned. I stood on the bank, frozen. She bobbed up once, her face frozen, too, but for her eyes. She knew what was happening. I ran for Daddy, and then the men came with the dogs. They found her body on a sandbar near Branchland, her feet tangled in brush.