He didn’t answer.
And maybe he was right about one thing—
There were pieces I couldn’t remember.
The funeral.
The goodbye.
That empty space in my memory had never felt right.
“I’m not losing my mind,” I said. “I just need you to see her.”
After a long pause, he agreed.
The next morning, we went back to the school.
The teacher told us the girl’s name was Bria.
She sat by the window, twirling her pencil—just like Lulu always had.
Rhys stopped walking.
I watched his expression change.
“That’s…” he began.
But didn’t finish.
Bria had transferred recently. Her parents, Ford and Grier, dropped her off every morning.
The next day, we met them.
They were kind… but confused.
As Rhys explained everything, they listened carefully.
Ford glanced between the girls.
“That’s… uncanny,” he admitted.
But he shook his head.
“Kids can look alike.”
Still… something lingered.
That night, I couldn’t sleep.
“I need a DNA test,” I said.
Rhys was quiet for a long time.
“If it’s negative,” he said finally, “you have to let this go. Completely.”
I nodded.
“Yes.”
Asking Bria’s parents was difficult.
At first, Ford was angry.
But after hearing everything… he agreed.
“One test,” he said. “And that’s it.”
We waited six days.
Six endless days.
The results came in.
Rhys opened the envelope.
Then handed it to me.
“Negative,” he said softly.
“She’s not Nell.”
I cried.
Not just from pain—but from release.
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