photograph after seeing our pregnancy announcement online.
She’d recognized us from pictures Rebecca had kept years earlier.
A few days later, Emily and I met her at a quiet café.
Laura brought photographs of Rebecca laughing at picnics, celebrating birthdays, and playing with us as children.
She told us Rebecca loved detective novels, thunderstorms, and yellow dresses.
She’d dreamed of opening a bookshop.
Hearing those details meant more than I expected.
Our mother was no longer just a tragic figure in an old photograph.
She had been a real woman
