The camera pans out from the pretty reporter’s face to show the Clifford Police department in the background. That shouldn’t be a shock, considering how many stations sent reporters to town yesterday for Mom’s press conference, but seeing that little slice of our quaint downtown on the national news sucks the air from my lungs.

I didn’t realize any of the reporters had hung around.

“Rumors abound online about the identity of the infant, and while there are no answers forthcoming from the local police department, it’s clear that the tragedy has really brought the people of Clifford together in their search for answers about the baby, affectionately dubbed ‘Lullaby Doe’ by the online community. Here to talk to us about how this tragedy has affected their hometown are Clifford residents Marina Tillman and her daughter Claire, who goes to the high school where the baby was found.”

Of course she does. There’s only one high school in town.

The camera zooms out a little farther as two more figures step into the frame. I recognize Claire; I think she’s a sophomore.

“My mom has her for Chem I,” Amira says.

But Claire’s mother is familiar too, though I can’t quite place her.

“Now, Mrs. Tillman, I understand that you’re actually a local businesswoman. Is that right?”

“Yes, I’m the owner and florist at Flower Power, just down the street. Lived here all my life, and so have my parents.”

Marina Tillman nods in the direction of Clifford’s only flower shop. And that’s when I remember that she took my order for Jake’s boutonniere, for the Fall Ball, back in October.

“And what would you like the world to know about your hometown?”

“We’re a real community, out here. Clifford’s small enough that everyone pretty much knows everyone else. Or else they know someone who knows ’em. We’ve been shocked by this tragedy, but it’s bringing us together as a community.”

The reporter nods, while Mrs. Tillman parrots her own words back at her.

“And we’re going to get answers for that poor little baby. That’s the very least she deserves.”

The reporter turns to Claire. “I understand that you go to the local high school? Tell us what it was like at school today, after the shock of Friday afternoon’s tragedy.”

“It was weird. Everyone was kinda … numb,” Claire says. “I was there all day on Friday, and it’s weird to think that while I was goin’ to my classes, eatin’ in the cafeteria, some girl was havin’ a baby in the locker room, and no one knew a thing about it.”

I know the second I hear her accent that the world will either fall in love with her Southern charm or make fun of the hick from hicksville, depending on which way the wind is blowing at any given moment.