It was something she had teased Emma about for years.
Then Lily pulled her own hair into a ponytail.
The room fell silent.
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Behind Lily's left ear was the exact same birthmark. It was the same shape, size, and in the same location.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
I remember looking from one girl to the other, waiting for someone to explain what I was seeing.
Instead, Olivia laughed.
"What are the odds?" she asked.
The question hung in the air.
Nobody answered.
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That night, after everyone left, I sat alone at my kitchen table with the hospital bracelet in front of me. The plastic had yellowed with age, and the writing had nearly faded away.
I traced my finger over it while old memories surfaced.
The hospital room.
The doctor's apology.
The daughter I never got to meet.
The daughter I had spent 15 years imagining.
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Eventually, I put the bracelet away and told myself I was being ridiculous. Coincidences happen. Life isn't a mystery novel. There had to be a reasonable explanation for what everyone was seeing.
