Updated: Nov 12, 2020
“Who are you?” Continued ...
Macy handed him her phone, and he scrolled through her expansive collection of photos of three completely unrecognizable children—stirring a pot of chocolate cake batter and licking their fingertips, blowing out birthday candles, riding bicycles. Just those same three children, over and over again. Where did she get all these pictures? Did she take them from the internet? The last few shots he scrolled through appeared to be from a professional newborn photo shoot, presumably of the youngest one, Trevor—nestled in a decorative wicker basket full of pillows cuddled up with a teddy bear, sound asleep on a luxurious, fluffy periwinkle carpet, a sepia shot of him swaddled up and cradled in his mother’s arms, her face off camera. “We got that shoot done just a few months ago, right after he was born,” Macy explained. “We couldn’t decide on a theme, remember? I wanted dinosaurs, you wanted baseball…” Her voice trailed off when she noticed Colin’s expression. “You have no idea who I’m talking about, do you?”
“No, I don’t,” Colin snapped. “And if you don’t leave right now, I’m calling the police.”
“I don’t know what’s gotten into you. Please let me through. I need to check on Tr