It was last year right before Lauren’s grandma passed away. Her grandma had been living in an old folks’ home, and Lauren had gone to visit her. She’d only seen her grandma a couple of times as a young child. When she’d gone into foster care, her grandma never contacted her; as an adult, she had to assume that CPS had notified her family, and the old hag had rejected her. But for some reason, on her deathbed, her grandmother had finally reached out. Wanted to find redemption in her final moments, Lauren guessed. At first Lauren had only gone to tell her off, to make her feel bad about not taking Lauren in when she was younger. But the old woman had been so frail, so sickly, that Lauren lost her nerve. Besides, she was the only person she could talk to about her mom. And she’d been aching to learn more about the woman she’d loved so fiercely and missed so much.

Her grandma had shared a few photo albums with Lauren. They were the kind with plastic over the photos and the little spots to write in captions. Flipping through one, Lauren came upon pictures of her mom as a teenager. Her mom had always been so beautiful. In several of the pictures, she was with a friend. Next to them in cursive handwriting it read: Millie and Whitney. BFFs.

“Do you remember Mom’s friend Whitney?” she’d asked her grandma, pointing out the picture. Her grandmother was sitting propped up in her bed, knitted blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Her eyes were glazed and watery, her mouth trembling, drool pooling at the corner as she studied the photograph.

Yes. Whitney Lewis. I’ll never forget her. Her grandma’s voice took on a dark quality. She ruined your mother’s life.

As her grandma had tried to relay the story to Lauren, it was hard to follow, but one thing was clear: Lauren’s interest was piqued. She’d wanted to know more about this woman who had once been her mom’s best friend.

And her interest had grown further when she found her mom’s journal. It was filled with stories of her mom’s former best friend.

So she’d hopped on Facebook, and searched for Whitney Lewis. She was going by Whitney Carter now, but had listed Lewis as her maiden name, so she was easy enough to find. Lauren hadn’t really known what she’d hoped to discover on Whitney’s account. But nothing could’ve prepared her for the truth. She’d been stunned when she came upon a close-up, profile shot of Whitney’s daughter wearing a swim cap, her neck exposed, revealing the same tan birthmark Lauren had.