Evelyn stopped.
Nora stopped.
Neither spoke.
The resemblance was even more startling in person.
Same height.
Same eyes.
Same shape of face.
But Nora’s hair fell past her shoulders.
The scar above her right eyebrow was more visible than in the photograph.
She wore faded jeans and a gray sweater.
Her face was exhausted.
Her eyes were swollen from crying.
Maisie released Evelyn’s hand.
“Mommy!”
She ran.
Nora dropped to her knees.
“Oh my God.”
She pulled her daughter against her.
Maisie began talking immediately.
“Aunt Bee slept in the car and I found you but it wasn’t you because it was Evelyn and she had a big dress and James got me ice cream and—”
Nora started laughing and crying at the same time.
Rebecca stepped onto the porch.
“Hi.”
Nora looked up.
“You brought her.”
“Of course I brought her.”
“You weren’t supposed to.”
“You disappeared.”
“I needed one night.”
“You have a four-year-old.”
That ended the argument.
Nora kissed Maisie’s hair.
“I’m sorry.”
Maisie whispered, “You scared me.”
“I know.”
“Don’t do it.”
“I won’t.”
Evelyn stood several feet away.
Watching.
Waiting.
Nora finally looked at her.
The sisters stared at one another.
Evelyn had imagined this moment during the drive.
She had prepared sentences.
Questions.
Anger.
None survived.
Nora spoke first.
“You really do look like me.”
Evelyn laughed through tears.
“I was about to say the same thing.”
Nora stood.
For several seconds, neither knew what to do with their hands.
Then Maisie solved it.
She grabbed Evelyn’s fingers.
Then Nora’s.
She pulled them together.
“Same.”
Both women laughed.
Nora cried harder.
“So you’re Evelyn.”
“So you’re Nora.”
“Apparently.”
Evelyn looked at her.
“I’m sorry.”
Nora immediately shook her head.
“No.”
“I had everything you—”
“No.”
Nora squeezed her hand.
“You did not do this.”
“But—”
“Do not apologize to me for being born seven minutes before me.”
Evelyn almost smiled.
“How do you know it was seven?”
“Margaret told me.”