Robert had left for work before the sun rose the next morning with no goodbye. I'd woken, arm outstretched into emptiness. His side of the bed was cold against my fingertips. I sat upright, calling Rover so that some of the void next to me could be filled.

The sun smiled through a gap in the curtains, creating beautiful rainbows on the adjacent wall. The promise of a rare, cloudless April day. Though I had no-one to enjoy it with, I was determined to make the most of such weather. It wasn't often we had sunshine, even if the wind was bitter. It was nothing a nice cardigan couldn't aid with. Besides, there was something quite quaint about the flowers starting to bud and the animals foraging about that I found fascinating. 

Propped against a pillow, I let the loneliness consume me. Let it escape down my cheeks. The house had become overwhelmingly large over the years; too large for my company. My eyes fell upon Robert's bookcase, alphabetised in his bid for perfection and order. Not a page to be bent. Not a speck of dust to be seen. Everything had to be just so. Not like my own bookshelf with endless paperbacks slotted where they might fit. It surprised my friends actually. It was the complete opposite of how I was outside of my home. 

————-

"Do you not work, Mrs Collins?" The first police officer, who I'd discovered was called Ben, inquired.

"I work at our local library a few days a week," I nod, turning my gaze towards the second officer, Gary, he had said. He seemed the more compassionate of the two. "I couldn't stomach my work as a nurse after we lost Naomi."

"Lost Naomi?" Ben repeats, eyes narrowing.

"Lost, taken. They're the same thing." I meet his stare, careful to hide the heat rising, the anger threatening to spill over. The accusation in his tone is thick and inescapable.

"Lost things are often misplaced, would you not agree? Did you misplace Naomi?"

I wipe my clammy hands on my pencil skirt, heart pounding through my blouse. The tapping of my foot fills the silence that stretches between us. Ben's gaze doesn't waver. I shrink into myself, arms folded, the handcuffs cool against my sore wrists.

"Can I finish my story, please?"

Ben leans closer, nodding once. The breath halts in my throat. This isn't going to plan. Not even close.

--------

I'd eventually forced myself from the warmth of our bed. It was a Wednesday morning and my shift at the library was due to start at 11. I'd showered in haste, wanting to take Rover for a quick walk before leaving.

Work was quiet when I arrived; no different to any other day, really. A few parents arrived around noon for their baby bounce group. Oh, I adored when the babies came for a visit. Their laughter would fill the room and remind me so very much of Naomi at their age.

I'd watched them, a smile on my face, as I'd stacked the returns books into their designated spots. One woman had become a well loved regular at the library. With her bouncy blonde haired daughter full of enthusiasm as she scanned the shelves for their next bedtime read, she reminded me the most of Naomi.

Naomi loved We're Going on a Bear Hunt and in the months prior to her... disappearance... she'd beg Robert and I to read it to her every night. Some nights at least twice.

It was as I watched the group that a lone woman standing in the crime section caught my eye. She wasn't the most remarkable person; her hair was a dirty shade of blonde, she was average height and weight.

No, it wasn't the way she looked that drew my attention her way. It was how she stared at me. To say I felt uncomfortable would have been an understatement. Her eyes, like a sniper's dot, stayed on me as I moved between the shelves.

The hairs stood on my arms, stomach twisting as I tried to pretend her presence was anything but unnerving. With a Dilly Court book in hand, ready to place it in its home, a voice made me start.

The book landed with a thud. Before I could bend to retrieve the paperback, the mystery woman held it out to me. With a tremor in my hand, I mumbled my thanks, hoping she'd leave. I've never felt so uncertain about a situation.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you jump," she gave me a soft smile. "I just had to come and see you. I thought if you saw me in person, you'd know I really am Naomi."

I halted, the stack of books in my arms threatening to tumble. How dare she make such a statement!

"You are not my daughter."

I left her fumbling in the pocket of her coat. I'd had enough of her pretence. First the phone call, then ambushing me in my workplace. It was cruel. I'd hoped she would get the hint; that she'd leave the library and never contact me again.

No such luck.

She fell into step beside me, holding a crumpled photograph under my nose. I almost stopped breathing as I took in the image before me.

The little blonde girl staring back, large blue eyes shining with life. Her plaid dress crumpled and covered in dirt. Dirt that was smeared over face. Her smile was bold, a gap between two teeth proudly on display.

Naomi.

The girl was her double. A replica, to be exact. But Naomi had never lost a tooth. Had never worn a plaid dress covered in dirt. In fact, Naomi had hated being dirty. Even as a toddler, she would cry until I cleaned her face after eating.

"That's me," the woman insisted, pointing a finger at the little girl. "I was around seven here."

I fought against - and failed to contain - the tears that brimmed. It was as though I were looking at my little girl again. My Naomi. But it couldn't be. It was impossible.

"I don't know who you are. I'm sorry, but you're not Naomi. Naomi is gone and has been for a long time now." I handed her the photograph, pushing past her.

She didn't follow me this time. Just stood, mouth open with a face full of hurt, watching me. I'd raced to the seclusion of the staff toilets, let my anguish free as soon as the door latched closed.

———-

"And you're certain it wasn't Naomi? It seems odd given you claim the young child bore such a resemblance to her." Ben questions, rubbing his chin.

I nod, my throat closing up. It wasn't her. The room closes in, secrets threatening to surface. He says nothing, waits for me to compose myself. I appreciate the silence that falls.

I fumble with my blouse, trying to loosen the neckline. I need air. Fresh air. To breathe, I need to walk and think. I can't do this anymore. I can't tell them everything. It hurts too much. It's Robert's fault. If he'd just noticed me. Made a genuine effort once in a while. Hadn't been so distant.

The water bottle in front of me sits empty and crinkled. My mouth dries, making it difficult to talk. I point at the bottle, turning my attention to Gary. He looks from it, then back at me.

"Please?" My voice is hoarse, cold. Different from the usual high chirp my friends often comment on.

He nods, excusing himself, leaving me and Ben alone. I try to avoid his gaze, the judgment his eyes hold. The ticking clock fades into the background, my mind a whirl of memories and pain. An eternity passes before Gary returns with an ice cold bottle of water. My throat gasps with delight.

Ben taps his foot. He's getting impatient with me, wants to know more. I know it's his job, that he has to know everything and then some, but it leaves me distrustful. Leaves me wondering what his colleagues are saying to Robert. What Robert is saying to them. Is he telling them the truth? Do they know?

"I'll repeat, Mrs Collins, are you certain the woman you encountered was not Naomi?"

Tightening the lid and slowly placing the bottle on the table, a feeble attempt at prolonging the inevitable, I lift my head to meet his gaze. I smile despite myself. I've never been more certain. That woman was not Naomi. She never had been.

"I'm certain."

"And how can you be so sure, Mrs Collins? After all, it has been 15 years since you last saw your daughter. People change a lot in that time."

"She was not Naomi. Naomi is gone and has been for a long time," I lean closer, my voice coming out as only a whisper, "so yes, I'm certain she was not her. This woman, she was someone else entirely. She was the secret I'd kept from Robert for over twenty years."