She gave it to me for Christmas, so many years ago. When I look at it, sometimes I think that I can still see her, that maybe she is still there, inside that miniature world. Yeah, I think that’s her world.

And even though I don’t see her, maybe she’s there, trapped in that little world where I can hold her forever. Walking those glitter-covered streets, still in that red jacket she always wore.

The glass sphere fits perfectly into my palm, and I cradle it there. “Anna?” I whisper, “Are you in there?” But there is only silence.

I want to shake it, to make it snow again, but I am afraid that if I do, that it might hurt her, that she might be tossed against those tiny skyscrapers, and be…be what? She’s already gone. Can you be gone twice? I don’t know.

Gently, I set it back on the shelf, where I can see its reflection in the mirror. Maybe she’s still there. Maybe she’s not. But either way, I will never forget her.

My little sister.

My snow-globe girl.

My Anna.