like the universe was urging me to speak to her. I walked up to the woman and hesitated, unsure of how to approach the situation. “Excuse me,” I started, my voice trembling. “I know this might sound strange, but you look so much like my mother. Her name was Sarah. She passed away years ago, but I—” The woman’s eyes widened, and she took a step back, as if the mention of my mother had brought back memories she wasn’t prepared for. After a brief pause, she spoke softly. “I had a twin sister named Sarah. We were adopted by different families when we were babies. I… I didn’t know her well,
but I did try to get in touch with her many years ago. We spoke once or twice, but we never really connected. Eventually, we both decided it was best to move on.” I was speechless. The words felt like a punch to the gut. My mother had a twin? And she had tried to reach out to her? It was something I had never heard about, something that my father had never mentioned. The woman apologized for my loss, gave me a brief hug, and then patted me on the shoulder as if she were trying to offer me comfort. Before I could ask anything else, she turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd. I stood there, stunned, unable to comprehend what had just happened. The woman who could have been my mother’s twin had just walked away, and I would never see her again. I couldn’t bring myself to tell my father about this encounter. Part of me was afraid that it might somehow disturb the fragile memory of my mother we had carefully preserved. But another part of me wondered what else she might have known about the life my mother had before us.