The lid lifted with a sigh of dust, and inside lay a neat bundle of photographs bound by a faded ribbon. Miriam slipped one free and froze. A woman looked back at her; dark eyes, sharp cheekbones, a mouth tilted in that same half-smile Miriam had seen in the mirror her entire life. The resemblance was undeniable, so exact it unsettled her.
It was like staring into a reflection carried forward through decades. Photo after photo revealed the same woman in different poses: standing on a porch with a book in her lap, seated at a wedding table with her gaze turned slightly away, bundled in a coat by the water’s edge. Each image held the same commanding presence.