I called Lila over, patting my lap. “Hey, sweet pea. You always say you’re dressing like Mommy… but Mommy doesn’t wear this stuff, does she?”
She frowned, clearly confused. “Yes, she does. Every day. When you’re at work.”
My heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean?”
She shrugged, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “She wears the red shoes and puts on lipstick in the car. Then she drops me at Aunt Carrie’s house and goes.”
Now, Aunt Carrie—Rachel’s older sister—did watch Lila now and then, but not daily. Definitely not every day.
I tried to keep my tone calm. “And where does Mommy go?”
Lila puffed out her cheeks. “I dunno. She says it’s a secret grown-up place.”
I was quiet. My mind was racing. I nodded, kissed her forehead, and tried to smile. “Thanks, princess.”
Rachel came in a minute later, smiling like nothing in the world was off. “What are you two whispering about?”
“Princess stuff,” I said, forcing a smile, but the words tasted wrong in my mouth. The weight in my chest was too real to ignore now.
