The mother hesitated, looking at her son. “Do you remember their names?”
“Ava and Mia,” he said. “They’re in my class. Miss Carson calls them.”
My heart stopped. Miss Carson—the teacher my daughters would have had.
Was this coincidence, or something more? I had to know. We exchanged numbers, and days later, Miss Carson called.
At a café, she spoke carefully. “I’ve had them in my class this past year.”
“How is that possible?”
“Children have imaginary friends,” she said. “But Ava and Mia… are different. The whole class knows them. I even find their names on assignments.”
I left with more questions than answers—but also a strange peace.
My daughters were gone… yet somehow, they still lived on—in a classroom, in children’s hearts, in ways I couldn’t explain.