I could not make accusations on the strength of a resemblance and the ache in my chest.

I took out a business card and wrote my personal number on the back.

I told Willa that if her mother remembered me, she could choose to call.

The girl inspected the card and tucked it beside her drawing.

“Is this like a secret mission?”

“No secrets,” I said.

“Just an invitation.”

She smiled, showing that familiar dimple again.