She walked in, rain still clinging to her coat. His daughter, Mira. Thirty-two now. He hadn’t seen her in four years.
The projector coughed again. The last reel ran out. Flapping white light filled the hall like a sigh. FILM SEMI
“You used my face?” she whispered.
“You said it was the last screening.” She didn’t sit. “You always say that.” She walked in, rain still clinging to her coat
On screen, the out-of-focus woman turned toward the camera. Mira’s breath caught. The face was her mother’s — Leo’s late wife, Nina — but slightly wrong. The eyes were Mira’s. She walked in