It began on an ordinary Tuesday, the kind that starts with spilled cereal and ends with a hurried goodbye at the school gates. Natalie Reed was tying her six-year-old daughter Ila’s shoes when Ila tugged at her sleeve and said, “Mommy, I met someone today who looks just like me.” Distracted, Natalie smiled and replied, “Oh, really?” But Ila was insistent: “No, Mommy. It’s like looking in a mirror.”
Natalie froze, her fingers pausing mid-tie. There was something in Ila’s tone—so certain, so still—that sent a chill down her spine. Later that day, standing at the school gates, Natalie watched as children poured out of classrooms in a wave of laughter and color. And then she saw her. Walking hand in hand with Ila was another little girl—same height, same face, same dimple on the left cheek, and even the same birthmark on the right collarbone. It wasn’t just a resemblance—it was like seeing two Ilas side by side.
