Lily laughed, clapping her hands together. "Laur, this girl is you all over again."
My mother chimed in, "No, Belly's her father's daughter," and a fleeting exchange of secret glances followed, leaving me with the curiosity to question, "What, what?" Yet, my mother, a skilled keeper of secrets, remained silent. I bore the resemblance to my father, evident in our upturned eyes, a little girl version of his nose, and a chin that jutted out. All I had inherited from my mother was her hands.
Lily's smile returned, and she quipped, "You're absolutely right, Belly. Your mother does cheat. She's always cheated at hearts. Cheaters never prosper, children."
The term 'children' flowed from Lily's lips with an affectionate touch, making it less an assertion of our youth and more a declaration of t
