Why would she?
The last time she’d seen Audrey, her daughter had been nine.
Audrey watched her mother usher Oliver inside.
The door closed.
She sat there for another twenty minutes.
Then she got out.
The doorbell played three soft notes.
Audrey heard footsteps.
A lock turned.
Marianne opened the door.
“Hello?”
Audrey looked at her.
Up close, there were small differences.
Fine lines around her eyes.
A faint scar near her chin.
A silver necklace with three tiny charms.
Three.
Audrey wondered whether one represented her.
Marianne smiled politely.
“Can I help you?”
Audrey opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Marianne’s smile faltered.
“Are you all right?”
Audrey stared at her.
Then she said, “Hi, Mom.”
The woman’s face changed.
Not recognition at first.
Confusion.
Then something like fear.
She gripped the edge of the door.
Audrey watched the colour drain from her face.
“Audrey?”
Her daughter’s name emerged as a whisper.
Audrey nodded.
For several seconds, neither moved.
Then Marianne lifted a hand toward her mouth.
“Oh, my God.”
Audrey laughed once.
It was a strange, broken sound.
“Yeah.”
Marianne took a step forward.
“Sweetheart.”
Audrey stepped back.
“Don’t.”
Her mother stopped.
Tears filled Marianne’s eyes.
“Audrey.”
“Don’t call me sweetheart.”
Marianne covered her mouth.
Behind her, a little boy called, “Mom?”
She turned sharply.
“Oliver, go upstairs.”
“Why?”
“Please. Now.”
The boy appeared in the hallway.
He looked at Audrey.
“Who’s that?”
Marianne froze.
Audrey stared at him.
Her half-brother.
Eight years old.
The same age she’d been the year before her mother disappeared.
Marianne looked from one child to the other.
Then she said, “She’s an old friend.”
Audrey felt something snap.
“An old friend?”
Marianne closed her eyes.
“Audrey, please.”
Oliver looked confused.
“Mom?”
Audrey stepped closer.
“No.”
Her voice rose.
“No, you don’t get to do that.”
Marianne grabbed the doorframe.
“Please lower your voice.”
Audrey laughed bitterly.
“Why? Because he might find out?”
Marianne’s eyes filled.
“He’s a child.”
Audrey stared at her.
“So was I.”
The words hung between them.
Oliver stood motionless in the hallway.
Marianne looked at her son.
“Go upstairs, please.”
He hesitated.
Then obeyed.
Audrey watched him disappear.
She turned back to her mother.
“You told him I’m an old friend.”
Marianne whispered, “I didn’t know what to say.”
Audrey looked at her.
“That’s funny.”
Her voice shook.
“You knew exactly what to say when you told everyone you were dead.”
Marianne invited her inside.
Audrey refused.