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“I… I saw your drawing. The woman in your dreams.”
He blinked, uncertain. “You look just like her.”
I nodded, fighting tears. “That’s because I think I’m your —”
Before I could finish, footsteps echoed behind him.
A woman’s voice called out. “Jamie, is someone at the door, sweetheart?”
She appeared beside him, hair pulled back, cheeks flushed. I knew her instantly.
“You look just like her.”
***
Layla, my sister.
The world tilted. I gripped the doorframe.
“Megan?” Layla gasped, shock splitting her face. “What are you doing here?”
“Is this… is this Bill? Is this my son?”
Jamie, my Bill, looked between us, confusion blooming. “What’s going on? You said that my mom…”
Layla went pale and stepped back. “Come inside,” she whispered.
Mike squeezed my arm as we stepped into a living room full of sunlight and sketchbooks. Jamie stood back, eyes wide.
“What are you doing here?”
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