LYON
From the way my mother reacted when she walked into the room and saw the image on the wall screen, I knew no one was pranking me. Up until then, I was almost certain that it was some elaborate hoax, which now that I think of it made no sense because we’re not known for pissing around when it comes to serious business. I watched her as she got closer to the screen and reached her hand back for my father.
“She must be Eloise’s. Must be.”
“Who dafuq…who is Eloise Ma?”
“She was my favorite cousin. She and I were so close; we looked alike in some ways, but not like this. She’s the only one I can think of that would have a daughter or granddaughter that looks like this.”
“She’s the spitting image of you, love.” Ma started crying, and the pothead hugged her into his chest like they hadn’t just dropped a bomb.
“Cousin, what cousin?”
