Chapter 81

With a deep sigh, I reached for my baby book on the top shelf of the closet. Mom and Dad probably didn't know that I would grow up to hate the color pink when they'd bought it, but I could forgive them for that, I supposed.

The book cracked open, as though it hadn't been touched in a long time. Mom's handwriting listed my birthday, weight, and hair and eye color on the first page. Being dead must rush her hand since the notes from her grave were scrawled. Pictures of me as a baby hid underneath thin pieces of plastic with various captions on the rest of the pages. But I'd seen all this before. Looking at myself as a cute baby couldn't help me.

But I flipped through more pages, anyway. A baby who was definitely not me stared back from around the middle of the book. It had bright eyes and blondish hair but the shape of its head didn't match every other picture. The top and right edges had been ripped, tearing jagged gaps across the dark blue background.

"Leigh."