Fay spent the entirety of the night dazed by the encounter.
It was becoming a worrisome pattern.
The first time she met someone who thought she looked like someone they knew, it had turned out to be a fluke.
After getting her hopes up of meeting someone that could potentially know her dead parents, since her aunt withheld details about them, everything came to nothing.
However, a pattern became established.
She would go into a crowded place the few times she did, and her hair would draw a question or two.
This time around, it was the song she had sung.
As she laid on the big bed that would never fit into the room she grew up in, she let her thoughts wander.
After that encounter, she had been unable to put in the finishing touches of the perfume she was making.
Although the garden lights were switched on for her, she decided she had done enough for the day.
