Chapter 2: The Woman Who Wasnât Dead
The house was small.
Too small.
Nothing like the life he had built with his wife.
The paint on the walls was fading, the porch slightly uneven. But the moment Lily pushed the door open, something hit himâ
A smell.
Lavender.
His heart nearly stopped.
âMom!â Lily called, stepping inside.
Footsteps approached from the back room.
And thenâ
She appeared.
The man staggered back as if the ground shifted under him.
âNoâŠâ he whispered.
The woman standing in the doorway froze too.
Her face⊠it was her.
Older, maybe. Thinner. But unmistakably her.
His wife.
Alive.
Her eyes widened slowly, confusion turning into something deeperâsomething like recognition buried under years.
âI⊠Iâm sorry,â she said cautiously. âDo I know you?â
His voice broke. âAnna⊠itâs me.â
She flinched at the name.
âIâm not Anna,â she said, shaking her head. âMy name is Claire.â
But her hand moved to her chest.
Right where she used to wear her wedding ring.
A habit she didnât even seem aware of.
Lily looked between them, frowning slightly.
May you like
âYou forgot again,â she said softly.
The room went silent.
