It’s dark and we’re far enough away that I’m pretty sure they can’t see the details of what Clara looks like yet. I get up and follow discreetly in case she needs backup. Not that I can really help her if her family rejects her, but at least she’ll know she has one person in her corner.

The man freezes on his way to the car. He turns around with the girl in his arms. The kid is going ballistic with her muffled screams of “Mommy!”

The second girl steps gingerly out from behind the car. “Mom?” She sounds totally lost and unsure.

“Chloe.” Clara sobs out her name as she runs toward them.

The older girl approaches Clara. I’m about to have a full-blown smile on my face when the girl stumbles to a stop, staring wide-eyed at her mom. She’s close enough now to see us better. I see Clara again the way my mother sees her, the way the others see her. She really does look like she crawled out of her grave after being dead for a while.

Please don’t scream, Chloe. That would be the end of Clara.

She was strong enough to survive a scorpion attack, strong enough to crawl out of being buried alive and escape from monsters on Alcatraz. But having her little girl scream at the sight of her would shatter her into so many pieces that nothing could glue her back together.

Clara’s steps falter and she stops too. Her face shifts from amazed delight to horrible uncertainty.

The younger girl has managed to squirm out of the man’s arms and dashes over to us. Unlike her sister, she has no hesitation about jumping into Clara’s arms.

“I knew it was you!” The girl looks like she’s about to melt with happiness as she hugs her mom. “Daddy made us wait until we knew for sure. We watched forever. You just cried and cried and we couldn’t tell. Then you started talking and I knew! I heard your voice and I knew. See Daddy? I told you.”

But Daddy stands frozen a few steps away, staring at Clara.

Clara strokes Ella’s hair with a trembling hand. “Yes, baby girl, you were right. I missed you so much. So very much.” She looks fearfully at Chloe and her husband, her eyes begging.

Chloe takes a hesitant step toward her. “Mom? Is it really you? What happened to you?”

“Yes, sweetheart. It’s me. I’m all right,” says Clara. “I’m all right now.” She puts out her arm in an invitation and Chloe gingerly steps into it.

Dad yanks the girl back. “Is it contagious?”

“What?” Clara looks confused.

“Are you contagious?” Dad enunciates every word like she no longer speaks his language.

“No,” whispers Clara. Her voice cracks and I know she’s barely holding it together. “I swear.”