She’s not a stranger, but the same woman who lived three houses down from us years ago, before suddenly moving away. The one who brought banana bread when Emma was born.
As soon as she saw me, she turned pale.
“Claire,” she breathed.
Behind her, a little girl was glancing over her leg.
Black hair. Daniel’s eyes.
My knees almost gave way.
“You,” I managed to say.
Caroline’s eyes filled with tears. “Where is Daniel?”
“He’s gone,” I said. “And he’s left me something to deal with.”
Her voice trembled. “I never meant to break up your family.”
“You asked him to leave us.”
Her shoulders were trembling. “Yes. I loved her.”
“He didn’t feel the same way,” I said softly.
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