My hands were shaking by the time I took it.
"She comes in regularly."
***
The house was a pale yellow bungalow two blocks from the sea, with a small porch and wind chimes that turned in the breeze. We stood at the door for a moment.
Then Noah knocked.
Footsteps approached, the latch clicked softly, and the door opened.
And I stopped breathing.
She was standing right there.
Then she looked at me, and there was nothing there.
She was standing right there.
No recognition. No flinch. No guilt. Just a woman looking at two strangers on her porch with polite confusion.
"Can I help you?"
Noah's voice cracked. "Mom?"
She shook her head slowly, and her face softened with something that looked like pity.
"Sorry?"
A man appeared behind her. He took one look at us and put a hand on her shoulder.
"Who are they, honey?"
Her face softened with something that looked like pity.
