Lily, they’d called her, but the name was ill-fitting like a too small glove that hampers one’s movements. She’d never much liked the name. Desirée and Cherié were more to her liking, romantic and elusive, like her, the elusive part, anyway.

Lily would change her name when she became famous or, at least, when she was better off than now. It was only a matter of time if all went as planned. On the other hand, maybe that wouldn’t work so well. Name recognition mattered in the modeling business, and she had established herself. But, it was a nice thought.

A longing for a place to call home had trailed with her through childhood, teenage, and young adult years. She had never quite fit in though she had tried. Success and achievement had evened the score. Her career had launched her into the magazines and public arena, which was all good as far as employment goes. However, something else now consumed her.

Soon, Lily hoped, she would know if her search had been worth the time and effort. The ring of an incoming phone call startled her. “Where are you?” said a gruff female voice.

“Coming.” No time to be more specific. She locked her apartment and ran to her car. She sped across town to the downtown parking lot, put change in the meter, and began hoofing the remaining two blocks.

Her pace quickened. She squeezed between people rushing into an already crowded crosswalk. Her jacket brushed a lady’s purple coat, “Pardon me.”

Anxiety, a foe that brought no end of misery, clamored for attention. She willed herself to settle down. Not now. I can’t have a full-blown panic attack now. Her face flushed. Perspiration dampened her forehead. She deftly wiped the moisture away.

Thud, thud, thud-a-thud, thud, off-rhythm heartbeats pounded in panic mode. Calm down, Lily. Lily knew the drill to help make her body relax. Float through the panic. You can do this. You’ll be fine. Positive self-talk helps dismantle fear.

A confident woman by all appearances, though if not true, at least it didn’t show, she strode forward. Tan outerwear, leather jacket, soft suede skirt, and ankle-high boots, she made a fashionable statement. Thick, shoulder-length, almost-black hair bounced as she walked. Gold-with-turquoise hoop earrings and a matching silk, paisley-print scarf set off the outfit.

Men and women glanced her way. Children openly gawked. She’d grown used to the stares and learned how to use her height to an advantage. How to dress, walk, project confidence; the agency had said she’d been a quick study.

Yes, she’d learned to perform and take care of herself. But not for reasons they would ever guess. They saw her sparkle and success, but not her real self. Her breath sucked in.

There she is! Déjàvu. Does history always repeat itself? Her step halted, then continued. My baby, my sweet baby girl, I’d do anything for you. I guess that’s what I’m doing; anything. Her thoughts raced. So much was at stake.

She couldn’t blow this one. Will they let me speak to you, my little lamb? Fear clutched her heart. This moment was it, the only way. Will you ever forgive me? Lily’s thoughts pained her.

A slender, petite girl-child with long ebony tresses stared at Lily as she approached. The child’s face was blank, shielded. Her appearance? Uncanny the resemblance. A plain-dressed older woman stood stiffly behind the child and frowned.

The woman’s words to the girl-child were sharp, pointed, unkindly said. One could see that even from a distance. The child nodded, her face without expression. Today was the girl’s birthday. She had been born four years before on a Saturday at 12:05 p.m.

Lily, she coached herself, compose yourself. Make every minute count. Her pace slowed. Soon they would meet. Indecision collided with common sense. Please, dear God, make this go well. This opportunity is my only chance. Would you please help me?

The older woman and child walked over to a bench underneath a striped canvas awning that shielded the store front. Lily braced herself, steps firm, shoulders squared.

Lily walked up to them, ready to make the most of every second of the next few minutes.

Her nerves flashed at an alarming rate, but she was determined that nothing would interfere with what had cost her almost all she had.

“Hello, April,” she addressed the older woman, “It’s been a while.” A slight quiver in her voice betrayed her composure.

“Hello, Lily.” The bland, unwelcoming, monotone voice spoke without emotion. The older woman squinted and gave Lily a quick once-over. Her voice, after an over-long pause, was strident. “You’re late.”

Of course, she’d put me in my place, on the defensive. Why does she always make me feel like a fool? Time, it seems, does not change some things. Ignore it.

“April, aren’t you going to introduce us?” She had learned a thing or two, and now she could hold her own. Fire meets fire.

“The transaction,” April’s sharp voice demanded, “Give it to me.”

“No. Not yet. A deal is a deal.” Lily wasn’t about to cave, not after all it had taken to get here.

The child’s dark eyes stared at her, void, unchildlike. Perhaps they had seen too much of what’s not good in the world. Old eyes, thought Lily, but intelligent. This child doesn’t miss a thing.

Oh, dear child, don’t be afraid. Lily’s thoughts reached forward and warmed. She forced her facial features into a calm, pleasant, gracious look. A smile softened her expression. Lily knelt to be at eye level with the child.

“Hello. My name is Lily. I’m so pleased to meet you. I used to know you long ago when you were a baby.” The child’s wide-eyed look met Lily’s, but she did not respond. Lily smiled again. “I brought a surprise with me. Do you want to see it?” Her bright turquoise tote sagged open to reveal a teddy bear.

The child remained still, expressionless. Unusual for a child that age, thought Lily. I know that look. The toddler’s gaze penetrated hers, questioned, and remained uncertain, and then she looked up at April for direction but received none.

“This is my friend, Tina,” Lily said as she gently lifted the small, brown, stuffed bear out of the tote while smoothing its rumpled dress of white polka-dots on red. Lily glanced up at April and mouthed, “Her name?”

The stiff head rotated back and forth in a slight jerk. No dice. She wasn’t going to be helpful or make this any easier.

Okay, I’m on my own here. I’ll do it my way. I won’t let you ruin this, April.

“Mon Amie,” Lily’s voice warmed, connected, phrasing from her old friend, Hercule Poirot, the man who solved the most difficult of cases in the novels that were her friends.

“My friend, you are my new friend.” She pushed the teddy bear forward and touched the child’s hand. “Tina likes lollipops. She brought a red one for you and a purple one for herself.” Lily grabbed two lollipops from inside the tote and offered both to the child. “Here, these are for you. You may have them.”

Glancing at April, then back, Lily continued, “I will call you, Nicolette. I hope you don’t mind.” As she spoke the name, a pang pierced Lily’s chest. That was the name she’d chosen but had never spoken of since the day they’d lost her.

The moment was awkward, with no help forthcoming from the older woman. “I want to give Tina to you. She can be your friend.”

“The transaction, now!” April interrupted, impatient as always. She thrust her hand forward.

“Here.” A stiff envelope passed between the women. April jerked it towards herself and stepped back into the shadows, rifling its contents, counting.

A slight movement to her left caught Lily’s attention. Some twenty paces from them, a man on a bench held a camera and pointed it at her. Then, he glanced at another man across the street without moving his head.

Lily turned her back to them and allowed her hair to fall across to hide her face as she continued to talk to the child. The whole set-up was unnatural—but it was worth the risk.

Nicolette looked at Lily. Lily smiled back. Lily could read fear and a glint of trust. The beginnings of a smile tweaked the corners of the child’s lips. Lily was getting through. If only they could be alone, then it would be natural. But the thing was impossible—how could it not be impossible?

“Time to go.” April grabbed the girl’s hand and jerked her to her feet. “Hurry up!”

“Here, Nicolette, you keep Tina. She’s for you. I hope you will remember me.” So much I hope you do. The warmth of the child’s hand filled hers.

They’d connected. Lily was sure of it. Oh dear, can I do this? Can I leave you now? “Bye, my sweet Nicolette. I hope we will meet again sometime. Be a good girl.” She gave Nicolette a slight hug and rose to stand. The man was rising too, then the other man. No time.

They were moving, and so was she. April pulled the child down the sidewalk toward the intersection crosswalk. Lily ran into a coffee shop and disappeared into a hallway. With a strength of will, she blocked her sobs. She would be emotional later. Not here. Not now. Sorrow like death squeezed her heart.

Once inside, she dashed through the hallway and out the back door. Lily paused. A BMW pulled forward to where she stood. “Hurry!” she said to the occupants as she got in the passenger seat.

“We must hurry. Take another route. Stay off Main Street. Head south.” Her head pounded miserably, but she’d made it. Lily held her head in her hands and leaned forward.

Just like that, it was over. A year’s worth of effort, done in less than ten minutes.