I told Sophie I had errands.
She didn’t believe me, but she didn’t stop me.
“How do you know my daughter?”
***
The next morning, I stood outside a small house painted a tired yellow.
I knocked. Laura opened the door.
For a second, I was twenty years younger again, standing in our bedroom doorway and finding her with my husband.
I had been pregnant with Sophie then. Maybe that was why I’d stayed. I told Daniel I would forgive him on one condition: Laura disappeared from our lives completely. No calls. No messages. No second chances.
A month later, we moved to another city and started over.
“Mia was his.”
“Karen.”
“Laura.”
Neither of us smiled.
“I’m looking for Mia,” I said.
Laura’s expression changed. “How do you know my daughter?”
My daughter.
“She left after we had a fight.”
“Sophie came here looking for her months ago.”
Understanding crossed Laura’s face. “You really don’t know.”
