I’m frozen to the ground, horror-struck as the police officers return with the girl. Except that when she emerges, she is not the same girl that I’ve been seeing on the news. Bruised and battered, malnourished, skittish. She is the spitting image of Meredith instead. Flaming red hair, fair skin, freckles, eyes the same as Meredith’s mineral green. She’s Meredith in her mannerisms, in the way she carries herself, in the way she stands. She’s clean, well fed, seemingly unharmed. She is no longer a cherubic little girl. She’s developed into a lovely young lady who takes my breath away.
