"What is it my dear?"
Layla's hands drop ever so slowly, releasing the woman she had so tightly embraced like her life depended on it. The hair, her voice, her entire face says this is her mother, but…"
"Layla?"
"That…" Layla's eyes flicker back to the woman's face. The woman has a frown on that even after so many years does not look anything like her mother's. Her mother, actually, would have had heavier lines of worry at the situation than a frown. It was in the little things. Layla may not have seen her mother in years, but the things she knew about the woman who was once the light of her life, had surprisingly not faded. She thought she had forgotten, but seeing this double version of her just refreshes all those memories and it saddens her.
"You are not her." Layla states, her he
