For a second, I thought I was hearing things.
Maybe someone from Willowgate… maybe my own memory playing tricks.
But when I turned around, I froze.
The woman standing there had disbelief painted all over her face, mirroring mine. It took me a second to match the voice to the face.
“Oh my God! It is you!” Talia shrieked, pushing her cart closer. “Haelyn, girl, where have you been?! You just disappeared off the face of the earth!”
“T–Talia?” I breathed, the name slipping out like a memory I hadn’t dusted off in years.
Talia Pippin.
We’d lived in the same foster home in Baton Rouge, back when I still believed in happy endings and new beginnings.
She grinned wide, eyes full of warmth and curiosity. “Girl, it’s been forever! What… fourteen years? You look good! I can’t believe this!”
I smiled, but it didn’t quite reach my eyes. “Yeah… it’s been a minute.”
Talia glanced down at the modest basket in my hands filled with bread, bacon, eggs, fruit, and a pack of instant noodles.
The kind of groceries that whispered,“I’m starting over.”
“So, where you been hiding, girl? You dropped off the map! Nobody knew what happened.”
Lots of people knew, sis… just not you.
When I was sixteen, our foster mom died, and after that, we got separated. Talia went one way… I went another… and somewhere along the road we lost connection.
I hesitated. My mind raced for a half-truth that didn’t sound broken.
“Well, after we got separated, I moved in with a family that stayed in Breaux Bridge.”
That was the truth.
“That far?”
“Yeah… just an hour away.”
“Were they good to you?” she asked cautiously, her tone soft.
“Much better than the one we had.”
A knowing silence fell between us, like we were both standing in the same haunted hallway of our past, peeking into rooms that still held echoes of our childhood fears.
“But once I turned eighteen, I met someone and moved in with him. Unfortunately, things didn’t work out with us so now I’m here… for good.”
“What made you want to movehere,though?”
Damn… why is she asking so many questions at once? I wasn’t prepared for this kind of reunion.
My pulse spiked.
What should I say?
Like old friends with bad timing, the voices eased back into place as if they’d been on lunch break and just clocked back in.
Keep it simple and soft. People don’t need your truth.
