I was staring at my own face.
A little older. A little softer.
But unmistakably mine.
My fingers went cold.
I walked toward her.
She whispered, “Oh my God.”
My mouth moved before I could think.
“Ella?” I choked.
Her eyes filled with tears.
“I… no,” she said. “My name is Margaret.”
I pulled my hand back quickly.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “My twin sister’s name was Ella. She disappeared when we were five. I’ve never seen anyone who looks like me like this. I know I sound crazy.”
“No,” she said immediately. “You don’t. Because I’m looking at you and thinking the exact same thing.”
The barista cleared his throat.
“Uh… do you ladies want to sit? You’re kind of blocking the sugar.”
We both laughed nervously and moved to a table.
Up close, it was even more unsettling.
Same eyes. Same nose. Same crease between the brows.
Even our hands looked identical.
She wrapped her fingers around her cup.
“I don’t want to make this even stranger,” she said, “but… I was adopted.”
My heart tightened.
