She was working on some history ess

She was working on some history essay. Her books were open on the desk, and she had an A4 pad there and some pencils ready for taking notes.As I watched, she sat back on her chair, and she took up her history book. But much as she tried to read it, and much as she tried to concentrate, her eyes kept glancing up at those old photographs. There were a photograph of me on my own and a photograph of the two of us together. There was also a photo of when Eggy was small and when I was only a baby—maybe I had even just been born. And she was holding me, with Dad’s help, while Mom looked on, rather nervously, as if worried that Eggy might drop me on my head. Then there were photos of her and me, both of us getting bigger and older. And she was always three years ahead of me, always my big sister, and I was always her naughty little brother, driving her nuts and getting her on her nerves.There was a photograph of all of us too, of me and Eggy and Mum and Dad, all standing there together, smiling at the new camera.There I was. And there we were. And nothing would ever bring us back or make us whole again. I felt so sad again—but I wouldn’t give in to it. I was on a mission, like they say, and I had to see it through. I had to settle the unfinished business. I had to forgive and be forgiven. I couldn’t let Eggy go through the rest of her life remembering those last words she’d ever said to me, just before I stormed out to get run over by a truck.