"Madam, a woman is here requesting permission to see you. She claims to be your mother."
"My mother?" Daisy exclaimed, her voice sharp with disbelief.
She shot up from her chair so abruptly that it scraped harshly against the floor, the sudden noise slicing through the quiet room. She instinctively took a few hurried steps toward the door, her heart pounding with a mix of confusion and alarm, before she stopped herself, frozen mid-motion.
Her breath caught.
My mother?
That was impossible. Her mother was dead. Gone for years. Daisy had cried herself sick at the funeral. She had laid flowers on the casket with trembling hands. She had felt the weight of that loss every single day since.
So who was this woman standing outside?
How could she possibly be my mother when I buried my real mother with my own hands?
She thought in confusion, wondering why she acted so foolishly in the firsts place.
Who would even dare to come here and pretend to be my mother? She thought.
