"Because that's how twins work, sometimes. When a baby is starting to grow, before it's even a baby, sometimes it splits into two. And then there are two babies, and they come out the same."
"Like a cookie that breaks?"
"Kind of like that."
"Which one was the cookie and which one was the break?"
Nora turned off the burner. "Both of them were the cookie, I think."
Lila considered this. "Did Papa know he had a same face?"
"Yes. He knew."
"Why didn't he ever come to my house?"
"Who, Tom?"
"Papa's brother."
Nora brought the bowls to the table and sat down across from her. She had promised Bea Okafor, and herself, and in some way she had never put into words she had promised Daniel, that she would tell Lila the truth in sizes Lila could carry. The trouble was that she didn't know the size of this one. She didn't know if she knew the whole of it herself.
"Papa and his brother had a fight," she said. "A long time ago. Before you were born. A big grown-up fight, and they both said things that hurt, and after that they didn't talk to each other."
"Did they say sorry?"
"No."
"Never?"
"Not that I know of."
Lila picked up her spoon and put it down again. "You have to say sorry," she said. "Even if you're mad. Ms. Gabby says. You say sorry and then you do a fix-it."
"I know, dear."