Page 138 of Cole

Angela nodded, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. “I saw Annie’s photo from the charity gala.” She glanced at Annie. “It was… like looking in a mirror. I knew immediately we had to be related.”

“You’re identical twins,” her dad said. “Born three minutes apart.”

“I don’t really remember anything from my life… before,” Angela said, her tone almost apologetic. As if they’d be upset that a three-year-old couldn’t remember details from twenty-four years ago.

“Who raised you?” her father asked, the question direct but his tone gentle.

Annie was sure that Jude would have asked for that information and passed it on to her dad already, but it seemed he was using it to keep the conversation going.

Kiara shifted slightly, her protective instinct visible. Angela’s hand found hers, squeezing gently.

“Sandra and Jim Reynolds,” Angela answered. “They told me they’d adopted me when I was very young. I never had any reason to question it until…” She gestured vaguely toward Annie.

“Are they still in your life?” her father pressed.

A shadow crossed Angela’s face. “Sandra passed away a couple of years ago. Jim…” Angela glanced at Kiara. “He’s… uh… he’s still alive.”

Annie noticed her father and Jude exchange a meaningful glance, and it made her wonder what wasn’t being said.

How she wished she had Cole there for support. The worries she’d had hadn’t vanished with Angela’s arrival. In fact, if anything, they’d amped up.

She’d been her own person for so long and now there was someone who shared her identity. What if she was better than her? What if people decided that they liked Angela more?

Annie pressed a hand to her stomach, glad that she hadn’t eaten anything yet that day as it might just have made a reappearance.

The conversation continued around her, but Annie had checked out, going to a place in her mind that wasn’t filled with complicated and conflicting feelings.

“Annie?”

Her father’s voice snapped her back to the present. Everyone was looking at her expectantly.

“I’m sorry,” she said, smoothing her sweater. “What was the question?”

“Angela was asking if you’d show her around the grounds later,” her father repeated.

“Oh. Of course,” Annie managed, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Angela studied her, head tilted slightly in a gesture so familiar it was unsettling. “We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable.”

The directness caught Annie off guard. “No, it’s fine.”

An awkward silence descended until Elizabeth gracefully intervened. “Perhaps some refreshments first? Our cook prepared quite a spread.”

As platters were passed around, Annie noticed how Angela hesitated before selecting a lemon tart—the very pastry Annie would have chosen first. It was disconcerting, these little mirrors of herself.

“So, you work in a bakery?” Julian asked, leaning forward with genuine interest. More interest than he’d ever shown in Annie’s work.

Angela nodded, relaxing slightly at the change of topic. “For almost five years now. I love it.”

“She’s being modest,” Kiara interjected. “She’s practically running the place. Her cinnamon rolls are famous in three counties.”

A faint blush colored Angela’s cheeks. “It’s just something I enjoy.”

“Annie bakes too,” Benji offered. “Her chocolate chip cookies are the best.”

Angela’s eyes found Annie’s again. “Really? That’s interesting.”

“Not professionally,” Annie clarified quickly. “Just… for family.”

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