Although I asked a few casual questions, I noticed that Angela avoided direct eye contact, which left an uncomfortable tension lingering in the air. That night I barely slept because the image of that little girl replayed endlessly in my thoughts, and the resemblance between the two children felt too strong to be coincidence.
The next afternoon instead of driving home after work I parked my car across the street from Angela’s house and waited while telling myself that I was probably being irrational.
About an hour later Angela stepped outside holding the little girl’s hand. The closer I observed them, the stronger the resemblance appeared. Angela lifted the child into her arms and kissed her forehead while the girl wrapped both arms around her neck affectionately.
Hazel’s earlier words echoed in my mind as I gripped the steering wheel and realized I needed answers.
That evening I tried again to discuss the situation with Garrett. “Garrett,” I said carefully, “I saw Angela’s daughter today.”
He continued scrolling through his phone and responded casually, “Okay.”
“She looks exactly like Hazel,” I insisted.
He chuckled and said, “Children often resemble each other.”