Freckles across her nose.
A red store apron tied awkwardly around a school uniform.
She was holding a paper bowl covered with a plastic lid.
But that was not what stopped me.
It was her face.
Not because she looked like me.
She did not.
She looked like Lorna.
Not exactly.
That would have been absurd.
But enough.
The eyes.
The slight tilt of the mouth.
A tiny crescent-shaped indentation at the left side of her chin.
I had seen that mark every morning for twenty-seven years.
Lorna had one.
So did her younger sister, Maelis.
The girl looked up at me.
“You forgot your cane.”
I looked down.
I had.
It lay five feet behind me.
She retrieved it.
Then handed me the bowl.
“What is this?”
“Chicken soup.”
“I can’t pay.”
“I know.”
“Did you buy it?”
She nodded.
“With what?”
“My lunch money.”
That made me angry.
Not at her.
At the situation.
“No.”
I tried to hand it back.
“You need to eat too.”
“I already had half a sandwich.”
“That is not lunch.”
“I’m fine.”
“Why are you working here?”
She glanced toward Coryn.
“I’m not really working.”
The manager approached quickly.
“Ellie.”
“I know.”
