I nearly dropped the camera.
“Honey, did you know Lizzy before today?”
She shook her head. “Nope. But she said we should be friends, since we look the same. Mom, can she come over for a playdate? She said her mom walks her to school, but maybe next time you could meet her?”
I tried to keep my tone steady. “Maybe, baby. We’ll see.”
***
That night, I sat on the couch staring at the photo, heart thudding, hope and dread battling in my chest.
But deep down, I already knew, somehow, this was only the beginning.
“But she said we should be friends, since we look the same.”
***
The next morning, I gripped the steering wheel so hard my knuckles ached. Junie babbled about her teacher and “Lizzy’s favorite color” the whole way, completely oblivious.
The school parking lot was chaos, cars, kids, and parents waving. Junie squeezed my hand as we walked toward the entrance.
“There she is!” she whispered, eyes wide.
“Where?”
Junie pointed. “By the big tree, Mom! See? That’s her mom, and that lady’s with them again!”
“There she is!”
I followed my daughter’s gaze and my breath caught. A little girl, Junie’s mirror image, stood by a woman in a navy coat. The woman’s face was tight, watching us.
My stomach knotted.
And then, just behind them was a woman I thought I’d never see again.
Marla, the nurse. She was older, but there was no way I’d forget those eyes. She lingered like a shadow.
I tugged gently on Junie’s hand. “Come on, you need to run along, baby.”
She skipped off, calling, “Bye, Mom!” Lizzie ran toward her, instantly whispering secrets.
I followed my daughter’s gaze.
I forced myself across the grass, my pulse thudding in my ears. “Marla?” My voice shook. “What are you doing here?”
Marla jumped, her eyes darting away. “Phoebe… I —”
Before she could finish, the woman in the navy coat stepped forward. “You must be Junie’s mother,” she said quietly. “I’m Suzanne. We… we need to talk.”
I stared at her, my fury and fear fighting for space.
“How long have you known, Suzanne?”
“What are you doing here?”
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