In the spring after New Year's, the first spring before we turned seven, an unfamiliar face arrived at the orphanage.
The nuns found her at the orphanage gate and carried her inside.
The first time I saw her was in Miss Teresa's room. The door hadn't been shut, and I found myself peeking carefully through the crack again, just as I had before.
She sat on the edge of the bed, letting Miss Teresa wipe her short silver hair. Perhaps she noticed me. I couldn't be sure, but the way she looked over made me think she had.
I didn't dare keep watching. Those red eyes made me feel as if I were being teased. Maybe she had only glanced over by chance. I kept telling myself that on the way back, but no matter what, I couldn't convince myself.
She was so much like me. So much like the way I used to be.
I was afraid, and perhaps hopeful too. For a long time, I couldn't calm the complex emotions welling up inside me.
It wasn't until the next day that Sister Teresa introduced her to us.
Talulah
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