Chapter 8

“Your...your daughter?” Thalassa blinked, staring at the woman with her brows furrowed in confusion. “Ma'am, are you looking for your daughter? Is that why you're wandering alone?”
But her questions seemed to fall on deaf ears. The woman began running her hands all over her—her face, her arms, her hair.
“It’s you. It’s really you. Oh, thank you, God. I knew you would bring her to me.”