“He should’ve,” she said firmly. “Months ago.”

Stop two: Mrs. Alvarez’s tailor shop. The bell chimed. She peered over her glasses. “Is this her?”

“This is the girl,” Carla said.

In the back stood a mannequin dressed in soft blue chiffon, flowers stitched at the waist. It didn’t shout. It sang.

“It’s vintage,” Carla said. “My dress from ‘99. I wore it to a spring formal and kissed a boy named Mike under the bleachers. We… updated it.”

I laughed through tears.

When I tried it on, it felt like it had been waiting for me.

Stop three: Patty’s Donuts. In the back, Aunt Carla curled my hair, dabbed blush and gloss, whispering, “Your mom would’ve lost her mind over this look. You have her smile.”

“I look like me,” I whispered.

Back at the house, Linda was posing Hailey for fireplace pictures. Her face fell when she saw me.

“Oh,” she said. “You… found something.”

Dad stood nearby, looking like he was drowning on dry land.