Twins.
Even from forty yards away, I could see their faces.
They had my eyes.
They had the dent in my chin.
“Isn’t that something,” Ashley said lightly.
Her caramel Birkin sat on her lap, and she patted the clasp like a pet.
“Look how far she’s fallen.”
“Ashley,” I said. “Those babies.”
“Probably somebody else’s,” she said, without looking.
She pressed the button, and the passenger window slid down with a soft electric hum.
Emily had reached the edge of the shoulder by then.
She was close enough that I could smell wet cardboard, diesel, and baby powder.
Ashley held something out the window between two manicured fingers.
A twenty-dollar bill.
She let it go.
It spun once in the air and landed in the dirt at Emily’s feet.
“Buy yourself a meal,” Ashley said, with a smile so pleasant it turned my stomach.
Emily did not look down.
