She looked exactly like Emma.
She had my eyes, my cheekbones, and the same small mark above her left eyebrow that Emma had carried since birth.
My heart began pounding so hard I could barely breathe.
“Who are you looking for?” she asked.
Before I could answer, my parents appeared behind her.
Patricia covered her mouth.
Richard turned deathly pale.
I looked at them and forced a cold smile.
“Do you regret abandoning me now?”
The young woman suddenly grabbed Patricia’s hand.
“Grandma,” she whispered, staring at me, “is this my real mother?”
Time seemed to stop.
