She had Emily’s same dark, observant eyes. The same habit of pressing her lips together before smiling. Even the way she tucked her hair behind her ear was identical. And the strangest part… she looked about eleven.
Exactly the age a child would be—
No.
Daniel refused to finish the thought.
On the fourth day, he couldn’t ignore it anymore. He waited until Ethan said goodbye and got into the driver’s car Daniel had arranged, then followed the girl from a distance when a woman in a pharmacy uniform came to pick her up.
The woman took her hand gently.
Not like a stranger.
Like a mother.
They walked to an aging apartment building with peeling paint and dry plants in the windows. The girl ran upstairs while the woman paused at the entrance, stretching her back like everything hurt.
Daniel followed.
On the second floor, the door to apartment 2B was slightly open. Inside, he glimpsed a small table covered with schoolbooks, a framed photo, and a child’s drawing taped to the fridge.
Then the woman turned.
And his world stopped.
Emily.
Thinner. Tired. Hair shorter.
But unmistakably her.
They stared at each other.
She understood first.
Shock.
Then fear.
Then anger.
“What are you doing here?”