“Can I help you?” the woman asked, her tone cool.
Kevin stammered. “I thought I recognized her. She looks just like my daughter.”
The woman’s eyes flicked to Lucy, who was still at the fudge stall. For the briefest second, something crossed her face: guilt? panic? But then it was gone. “Strange coincidence,” she said flatly. She steered Lila away before he could say another word.
That night, Kevin couldn’t sleep. Coincidence didn’t explain the scar. Coincidence didn’t explain the woman’s expression.
He began to wonder about Sarah again. Where she’d gone, what she’d done after leaving them. He’d heard rumors she’d stayed in Massachusetts for a while. Was it possible—?
The thought was unbearable.
The following week, he tried to focus on work, on Lucy, on settling into their new life. But everywhere he went, he looked for Lila. He didn’t see her again until late September, at the school.
Lucy had joined the art club, and Kevin had gone to pick her up one afternoon. As he waited by the entrance, a group of kids poured out, laughing. Among them was Lila.
Kevin’s breath caught. She wore a paint-splattered smock, her hair pulled into the same messy ponytail Lucy favored. For a moment, he thought he was seeing double, Lucy and Lila walking side by side, identical down to the smallest mannerism.
He couldn’t take it anymore. That night, after Lucy was asleep, he did something he hadn’t done in years: he called Sarah.
