Turns out her mom, Isabella, had been a close friend of my mom’s back in the day. I couldn’t quite grasp the connection, so she explained it slowly, as if she were piecing together a story both of us had somehow forgotten.
“We used to live in the same neighborhood, right around the time you were born,” she said, brushing sand off her hands. “But, well… things happened. She and my mom fell out, and we lost touch. My mom didn’t talk about it much.”
I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. I had never heard my mom mention a Leandra or even a falling out with anyone. Not like that. But the resemblance was uncanny, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something deeper to this encounter.
I found myself asking her all the questions I didn’t even know I had—about her life, about her mom, and why I had never known about her. Leandra answered with honesty but also a slight hesitation, like she didn’t want to stir up old memories or open wounds. I could tell she was holding something back, but for the moment, it didn’t matter.
