“Girls!” she said, her voice suddenly syrupy sweet. “Look at you. You’re so grown up.”
Emma’s face remained blank. “We can’t see, remember? We’re blind. Isn’t that why you left us?”
The bluntness made Lauren falter for just a second. “Of course,” she recovered quickly. “I meant… you’ve grown so much. I’ve thought about you every single day.”
“Funny,” Clara said, her voice ice-cold. “We haven’t thought about you at all.”
I’d never been prouder of my daughters.
Lauren cleared her throat, clearly thrown off by their hostility. “I came back for a reason. I have something for you.”
She pulled two garment bags from behind her and laid them carefully on our couch. Then she produced a thick envelope, the kind that makes a heavy sound when it hits a surface.
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