Title Song: "New York, New York" by Frank Sinatra

By the way, there's a YouTube user named Raohn who's been making Alastor AI covers of Frank Sinatra song, including "I'm a Fool to Want You!" I'd suggest checking him out!

"What took ya so long?" Tina asked when Alastor teleported into the living room.

"I had to retrieve the grimoire from a gang of renegade imps trying to assassinate a political candidate up top." He held up the spell book. "They weren't very cooperative until Stolas himself showed up."

He sized up his wife, his smile shrinking. "Is that what you're wearing to the living world?"

She glanced down at her purple crop top and jeans. "Times have changed since the Depression, Al." She gestured towards him. "Ya go up there wearin' a pinstripe suit, you're gonna stick out like Angel Dust at a Bible study group."

He looked at both their outfits and sighed. Then he snapped his fingers, trading his pinstripe jacket with a white, button-up dress shirt.

"Better?"

Tina made a so-so sign. "Still on the formal side, but you'll pass."

Alastor opened the grimoire and flipped through the pages.

"Ya ever opened a portal to the livin' world before?" Tina asked.

"Nope!" He stopped at a page and skimmed it. "But it can't be too different from opening a regular portal in Hell!"

She frowned. "I swear, if we end up splittin' our bodies in the time-space continuum or whatever, then ya can really forget about us havin' kids."

"Hmm." He adjusted his monocle to read the spell properly. "You say that as if the option isn't already off the table."

She blushed. "I was just—"

"What say we focus on finding my stepdaughter first, and discuss making more children afterwards, hmm?"

As irritating as he was being, it was satisfying seeing Alastor in high spirits once again.

"This spell seems simple enough." A piece of chalk appeared in his hand. "All we need is a pentagram. Would you prefer to go through the wall or the floor?"

Tina glanced at the floor. "Wouldn't a portal on the floor send us plummetin' to Earth?"

"You have wings, I have magic."

"And what are people up there gonna think when they see two demons fallin' from the sky?"

"Wall it is, then."

Alastor strode up to the wall and began drawing a pentagram.

"Don't ya usually draw these things in blood?" she asked.

"Yes, but for this particular spell, any pentagram will do. So, why waste some perfectly tasty blood?"

Once the chalk pentagram was finished, Alastor muttered the spell from the book. The pentagram was quickly replaced by a circular window into a brightly lit alley.

"As the old saying goes," Alastor said, slamming the book closed and stepping to the side with a bow, "ladies first."

Tina reached toward the portal, but hesitated. "Should we really be going through there lookin' like…well, this?"

She gestured to her body and Alastor waved a hand. "We'll take care of that soon enough. Now let's hurry. I don't want this portal open long enough for any humans to stumble across it."

He offered a hand. She accepted it and stepped through the portal. Following suit, he closed it behind them.

The bright light hit Tina's eyes so hard that she had to shield them with her hand. Once they adjusted, she squinted up at the sky.

The sky.

"Al." She pointed upward. "Look."

He did. "Ah, yes. Shame that the first time we see the sky in so many years, it is ridden with smog."

The sky was indeed very gray, but still much brighter than the red sky of Hell. Tina focused especially on the golden orb shining through the clouds.

"The sun," she murmured.

Then she inhaled the air, coughed, and covered her nose. "Crap, it smells awful."

Alastor sniffed. "Indeed." He eyed the graffiti on the wall and the overflowing dumpsters. "You certain we're not still in Hell?"

"Nope. That's just New York for ya." She covered her ears to block out the cacophonous beeping of traffic. "Twenty years later and it's still a noisy dump."

Who would've thought returning to the living world after so long would be this underwhelming?

"Why we in an alley, anyway?"

"I had to teleport us somewhere inconspicuous," Alastor said. "Your daughter's apartment should be close, but before we venture into the streets, we will have to blend in with the locals." He opened the book. "Fortunately, this grimoire has a spell for that as well."

He closed his eyes and blue flames surged around him. When they extinguished, the Radio Demon was replaced with a tall, lean man with short brown hair and spectacles. His lightly tanned skin made his mixed heritage much more obvious than his demon appearance, as he could easily pass for either race.

Alastor opened his eyes, the irises still red, and looked curiously at his wife's flushed expression. "Are you quite alright, dear?"

The radio filter was gone from his voice. Even that was human.

"Huh?" She shook her head. "Oh, uh, yeah, I… W-Was that how ya looked when you were alive?"

He summoned a compact mirror to check his reflection. "My, my." He smoothed out his flatter hair and pulled at his human ears. "Been a long time since I've seen this handsome face."

It was no wonder he'd gotten away with so many murders. The man was a natural heartthrob in life as well as in death. Anyone would've fallen for his charms. Maybe even herself.

"So, uh," Tina said, trying to maintain her composure, "what about me?"

"Ah, yes." Alastor tucked the mirror into his pocket and took her hands. "I can make a disguise for you too, but I will need your help. All you have to do is close your eyes, and picture what you want to look like. Your original human appearance will make the spell easier, so stick with that."

Tina did as she was told, trying to recall how she looked while alive. Preferably a few years before the chemotherapy when she'd lost all her hair and weight. Definitely not during her pregnancy. No, she had to pick a time in her prime, when she was proud of her appearance.

"Got it?" Alastor asked.

She nodded. He muttered a few words and her palms felt warm. Then that warmth spread to the rest of her body. Suddenly, her back felt lighter, as did her arms, legs, and every other part of her body.

When Tina opened her eyes, she gasped at the hands in front of her. Her golden-brown fur had melded into golden brown skin. She touched her arm, startled by its smoothness. She had thought their disguises would be a mere projection, but it seemed they were tactile as well.

She looked up at Alastor and found he was blushing as hard as she'd been a minute ago.

"H-How do I look?"

Clearing his throat, he handed her the mirror. "S-See for yourself."

Her round facial structure hadn't changed, but in the absence of fur, it looked thinner. She picked at the hair, no longer sporting bat ears. Those had moved to the side of her head, now smaller and rubbery. The only parts of her body that remained the same were her purple eyes. Those, at least, could be dismissed as contacts.

"This is so fucking trippy," she said as she pulled at her round ears.

Alastor did not hear her as he was too enraptured by her human form. Although her batlike features were gone, her shape was similar. The waist was fuller, making her proportions a touch more realistic. She'd also shrunk a few inches, as had he. Sinners tended to alter in heights when they fell, and most humans didn't stand seven-feet-high. The way she scrunched her now furless button nose was adorable, and the way the sunlight reflected off her clean, golden-brown skin was stunning.

All in all, Alastor could see why Tina had caught the eye of so many men. Had the two of them met on Earth, she might've caught his.

"Al?"

"What?" He shook his head. "Oh, forgive me, darling. It's just that you look…" His eyes raked over her once more. "Breathtaking."

Blushing, Tina sized him up. "B-Back at ya, Sugar."

They would've stood there awkwardly for quite a while, had Alastor not remembered their purpose for being on Earth.

"Well!" He offered an arm. "Shall we?"

Her sliding her arm through his did nothing to cool off the heat spreading through them.

Alastor led Tina out of the alley. She was startled by the mass of humans bustling on the sidewalk. After over twenty years of being surrounded by demons of all variations, the sight of regular people was off-putting. Sensing her discomfort, Alastor unlinked their arms to wrap his around her waist and press her close to his side. The familiarity of the action calmed Tina's nerves.

They passed by three buildings, before Alastor brought them to a stop. The red-brick apartment complex wasn't spectacular, blending in with the surrounding properties, but it looked in good enough condition. Certainly better than the buildings in Pentagram City that weren't up to code. Not that anyone down there cared.

"She's in Apartment 2B." Alastor glanced at his wife, who was biting her lip as she stared up at the complex. "Would you like me to come in with you?"

She thought about it for a moment, then stepped out of his hold. "No. This is something I gotta do on my own. Plus, even in that human body, ya might scare her."

Or enamor her, which would be weird for all of them.

He smirked. "I'll be waiting right out here, once you're finished."

Tina nodded, took a deep breath, and went up the stone steps. The moment the door was shut behind her, Alastor's shadow sprang to life on the sidewalk.

"Watch over her, will you?" He whispered to it. "Just in case."

Tina wasn't sure how long she'd been standing in front of the door with the number 2B. Her feet were rooted to the spot, her finger rising towards the doorbell, then lowering.

Was this how Alastor had felt every time he'd come to see her the last ten years? Waiting outside her door, wanting so desperately to make up for lost time, but also not knowing what could possibly be said to repair all the damage that had been done? Where could she even begin?

Tina couldn't tell the truth. At least not all of it. Her daughter had no idea who she was. And Tina Davis was supposed to be dead.

But Nancy, or rather the girl once named Nancy, needed to know what had happened. Why her mother had abandoned her at birth.

Then something chirped in Tina's ear. She turned and saw her shadow on the floor, suspiciously shaped like Alastor, and waving. She smiled at it. Although it was pushing the boundary she'd set with Alastor, it was a relief knowing he was close by in some form.

Finally mustering up the courage, Tina rang the doorbell. From the other side, footsteps approached. A chain unlinked. The knob turned.

Standing in the doorway was a woman. But not the woman Tina had expected. She was short, heavyset, with curly blonde hair and brown eyes. And white.

"Oh." Tina's heart sank. "Sorry. I must have the wrong address. I thought this was Apartment 2B."

The blonde woman tilted her head, replying in a typical Brooklyn accent. "This is Apartment 2B, ma'am."

"Right." She glanced at the number on the door. "Well, maybe I got the number wrong. See, I'm lookin' for a young woman named Isabella Romano?"

The blonde crossed her arms. "Whaddya want with Izzy?"

"So, ya know her?" Tina perked up. "She does live here?"

"Who wants to know?"

Shoot. Tina hadn't thought that part through.

"I'm, uh…" She searched her brain for a name. "Charlotte…Angel."

She winced. The blonde laughed.

"That don't sound like a real name. You a stripper or something? Not that I'm judging."

"No." Tina twiddled her fingers. "My, uh, parents were just really big fans of Charlie's Angels."

"And how do ya know Izzy?" The blonde narrowed her eyes. "You her ex?"

"What? No!" Tina tried not to barf at that image. "Look, I didn't mean to bother ya, but if ya could just point me to were Nan—Isabella lives—"

"Who's at the door, Finley?" called another, deeper, female Brooklyn voice from within the apartment.

"Some chick wants to see ya," Finley said over her shoulder. "Know anyone named Charlotte Angel?"

"Charlotte who?"

Another woman appeared in the doorway, and all the functions in Tina's body shut down.

It was like looking in a mirror. Albeit a funhouse mirror. While the woman had the same golden-brown skin, she stood half a foot taller. Her long black hair was pulled back in a ponytail, out of the same, round face, complete with a button nose.

A feature they did not share was their eyes. In life, Tina's had been a dark brown. This tall woman's eyes were blue, like her father's.

Those eyes used to haunt her dreams. Today, they moved her to tears.

"Uh, you okay?"

Realizing how long she'd been standing there crying, Tina shook her head and wiped away her tears. "I'm, uh, sorry. Are you…Isabella Romano?"

"Yeah?" Isabella quirked an eyebrow. "And you are?"

"Charlotte Angel." Tina placed her hands behind her back and straightened up. "This…this is gonna sound crazy, but…I…I knew your ma. Your…birth ma."

Finley gasped. Isabella blinked and looked Tina over.

"This some kinda joke? No way ya knew my birth mom. Ya don't look much older than me."

Tina had almost forgotten her disguise had shaved off a few years from her death age. "Trust me. I'm way older than I look."

Finley whistled. "You must gimme the name of your plastic surgeon."

"Anyway," Tina took a step towards Isabella, "I know this is outta the blue and all, but I've been lookin' for ya for a long time, and…thought ya deserved to know the truth about your ma. And why she gave ya up."

Isabella shook her head with a snort. "If ya think I deserve to know the truth, why didn't my mom come here to tell me herself?"

If only she knew. "She's dead."

Isabella's expression softened. "Dead?"

"Only a few years after ya were born." Tina looked down at her feet. "Sorry it took this long to find ya. I…wasn't sure ya were still alive. Not to mention I…your ma gave ya a different name." She swallowed the bile forming in her throat. "Nancy Aretha Davis. That's what she called ya."

Isabella stood frozen in the doorway. Finley looked at her in concern.

"Izzy? You okay?"

"Yeah." Isabella shook her head and opened the door further. "You, uh, wanna come in?"

Unable to verbally accept the invitation, Tina stepped over the threshold.

"You…want a drink?" Finley offered. "We got beer, wine…"

"I'm eight years sober," Tina replied, though this awkward situation demanded alcohol. "Ya got any tea?"

"Sure. Hope ya like chamomile." Finley jerked a thumb towards Isabella. "Only tea Her Royal Highness here will drink."

Isabella rolled her eyes. "It's soothing for the nerves."

Tina's heart fluttered. "I…think so too."

Was it possible for the two of them to have anything in common other than DNA? After leading separate lives?

"Make yourself comfortable." Finley gestured to a couch in the living area. "I'll get the kettle going."

While Isabella went to the couch and Finley headed for the kitchen, Tina paused in front of a wall of photographs. Isabella was in most of them. In one, she was around six years old, wearing a green jacket, sitting on a park swing. In another, a little older, she sat at a piano. Tina stared a long while at one with Isabella in a graduation cap and gown. Standing on either side of her were a dark-haired woman with olive skin, and a tall, blonde man. She saw the couple again in another photo, a few decades younger, in front of a building named Romano's.

Tina had forgotten the name of the restaurant she'd left her daughter outside of. Had the couple owned it or worked there? Had they found Nancy and taken her in?

Then another photo caught Tina's eye. This one of Isabella in a wedding dress. She was kissing another woman in a wedding dress.

"Oh!" Tina covered her mouth. "You and Finley are married!"

Isabella rose from the couch. "You got a problem with that?"

"No, not at all!" Though she mentally kicked herself for thinking they were only roommates. "Most of the people I work with are queer. Includin' my husband."

Finding out her daughter was married to a woman was certainly a surprise, but also a huge relief. Unless Isabella and Finley planned for artificial insemination, Ethan's disgusting DNA wouldn't be carrying on to the next generation. That was an even better revenge than cutting off all his limbs.

Isabella sat back down. "You gonna stare at those all day, or are we gonna talk?"

"Right."

Tina joined her on the couch, though sat at the far end. She wasn't quite ready to be near the daughter she'd abandoned. Not quite ready for the inevitable conversation either, she glanced around the room, looking for anything that could stall it. In the corner was a modest piano.

"You play?" Tina asked.

Isabella looked at the piano and nodded. "My adoptive parents had a piano in their restaurant. They used to hire someone else to entertain their guests on weekends, and I wanted to learn too."

"So, ya must really like music, huh?"

She shrugged. "More of a hobby, really. My real job is with a nonprofit for LGBTQ youth."

Tina's heart swelled with pride. She herself used to dream of making a difference in the world, fighting for social change. Who'd have thought her daughter would unknowingly carry out that dream for her?

"You're a lot more like your ma than you realize," Tina muttered.

Isabella leaned forward. "Ya still haven't told me anything about her. Yeah, she's dead. But who was she? Why did she abandon me? Ya ain't even told me her name."

The bitterness in her tone, especially with the word "abandon," stung Tina, but it was justified. "Her name was Tina. Tina Davis."

"Hold the phone." Isabella raised her palms. "Tina Davis?Okay, this is totally a prank. Am I on camera right now?" She searched the room. "This going on YouTube?"

Tina blinked. "Huh?"

"You're tellin' my mom was Tina Davis? What, was my dad Eddie Murphy or Michael Jackson or something?"

"What? No!" Tina huffed. "He was nothing like those guys. But I don't get why you're so—"

"Hang on." Isabella took out her cell and tapped the screen. "Tina fucking Davis."

"What about Tina Davis?" Finley asked, coming in with a tray of three steaming teacups.

"This fool here," Isabella said, pointing at Tina, "says my mom was Tina Davis."

"No shit?" Finley gaped at Tina. "You sayin' I'm hitched to the daughter of a celebrity?"

"Celebrity?" Tina scooted backward, hitting the couch's armrest. "But I wasn't… I mean she wasn't—"

"This?" Isabella held up her phone. "This here is the woman who gave birth to me?"

The screen played a video that caused Tina's eyes to widen. It was a recording of herself, sometime in the '80s, doing a standup routine at a nightclub. When had anyone brought a video camera to the place? How had it ended up on the internet?

"That…that's her."

Tina then panicked. Would they recognize her from that video?

"Who'd've thunk, eh, Izzy?" Finley grabbed the phone to watch the recording. "That singer-slash-comedienne ya always said was ahead of her time was your mom all along!"

Tina relaxed. Her pixie cut and violet eyes must've been enough to prevent the couple from noticing a resemblance. Not to mention her voice was still a little raspy.

"So, what's the story?" Isabella crossed her arms. "My famous mama got knocked up, and didn't wanna destroy her glamorous career?"

Tina bit her lip. "It…wasn't as glamorous as ya'd think."

Although part of the reason she'd covered the pregnancy up had indeed been to guard her reputation, it hadn't been that simple.

"Ya see…" Tina picked up one of the teacups. "The real story's even worse. God, where do I even begin?"

"Let's start with the big question." Isabella's face was stern, but her voice was hoarse. "Who was my dad?"

"Oh, honey." Tina shook her head as she sipped her tea. "It's best ya don't know."

"Why not?"

"He was an asshole. To your ma, and to his wife."

"Ah." Isabella dug her fingernails into her arms. "So I was an affair baby. This just keeps gettin' better and better."

Finley handed Isabella a cup. She took it, but did not sip it.

"Lucky you, you'll never have to meet the bastard." Tina smirked. "Your ma made sure of that."

"Damn." Finley's eyebrows shot up as she took the third cup. "Your mom sounds like a real badass, babe."

Isabella finally took a sip. "Ya sayin' my mom murdered my dad?"

"Not on purpose." Tina's expression fell. "I'll, uh, spare ya the nitty gritty details, but let's just say your ma wasn't a…willin' partner. I mean…she did have some choice in it, but…not always. She didn't even know he was married. And when she confronted him, and he forced himself on her, she did the only thing she could do, and fought back."

It was surprising. Every time Tina told this story, all the emotions she'd experienced in that moment would come flooding back. Somehow, she was completely calm. Maybe it was knowing that Ethan had finally gotten the punishment he deserved. Or maybe it was all that self-reflection during her temporary mutism.

Or maybe, just maybe, she didn't feel ashamed of it anymore.

"Hey, babe." Finley turned to her partner. "Didn't you say something 'bout Tina Davis killin' her boss in self-defense and then she disappearin' from the public eye for several months and…? Oh!" She pointed at Isabella. "That's when—"

"Yeah. I can do math, Fin." Isabella took a huge swig of her tea, having an apparent high tolerance for heat.

Tina did the same. "By the time she found out about ya, it was too late to do anything about it. She hardly told anyone. Other than me, of course. She tried to get through it. She wanted to be better than the woman she had become. But…"

Tina locked eyes with Isabella. "When ya came, she saw that ya had…his eyes."

Isabella looked away.

"It ain't your fault, I know. She knew. But…it didn't make it easy." Tears rolled down her cheeks as she smiled softly. "She tried to look after ya. She breastfed ya, sang lullabies to ya." Then she frowned. "But damn, every time ya cried, she cursed herself for lettin' a man take control of her. That God was punishin' her for her sins. That you were crying cuz of her. That she didn't deserve to be a mother."

She wiped away a tear. "Lookin' back, she probably should've gotten help for her postpartum depression. Should've gone back home to Mama in Alabama. Checked in at a women's crisis center. Called an adoption agency. Anything. Anything other than what she actually did."

Tina waited for either of the young women to chime in, but all was silent. "It was a spur of the moment decision. That's what she told me, anyway. She was walkin' home with the groceries. Holdin' ya. Ya were crying. It was raining. The grocery bags broke. She broke. Broke down crying, right there on the rainy sidewalk."

The roll of thunder and the echo of a baby crying rang through her brain. Her teacup shook in her hand. She pushed back the sounds and steadied herself to get through the story.

"Then she saw it. An empty box. In an alleyway right outside a restaurant. No one was around. No one would know."

Tina sniffed and wiped her nose on her arm. "Ya know those moments when ya think, it would be so easy to steal that thing, or hurt that person? We all think that every now and then. It's human. Only one out of a million times do we actually do it. Well, this was one of those times. And I've regretted it ever since."

She caught herself. "Tina, I mean. She's regretted it ever since. But…I do too. For not being able to find ya sooner. If I had known she was gonna do a thing like that and leave ya… I'm not tryin' to excuse what she did, but—"

"Stop." Isabella raised a palm. "This…this is a lot to take in.'

Finley went to her partner's side and wrapped her arms around her. Tina watched her daughter, expecting her to cry. But all she did was stare blankly into space. Not a single tear.

"Do ya…hate your ma?"

If the answer was yes, Tina was prepared. If her own mother had done that to her, she would hate her too.

"That's the weird thing." Isabella set down her cup, still half-full. "I don't."

Tina blinked. "You don't?"

"I mean…I wondered sometimes about my bio parents." Isabella twiddled her fingers. "Thought about gettin' one of them DNA kits. But I guess I was too afraid that I wouldn't like the truth."

"I know what ya mean." Tina thought back to all the times she'd contemplated seeking out her daughter.

"In the end, doesn't really matter." Isabella glanced at the photos on the wall. "I have a mom and dad. They were good to me. Even when I came out."

"Your birth ma wouldn't've minded either."

How Tina wished she could've been the one to support her during that time. Been the one to witness her first steps, attend every piano recital, her graduation ceremony, her wedding. At least someone had been there to do all that.

"What she did to me was shitty," Isabella stated. "But at the same time, I wouldn't've wanted it to go differently. Leavin' me in that alley brought me to my mom and dad."

"And to me, baby." Finley squeezed her.

"Yeah." Isabella laid her hand over the one on her shoulder.

A tingle shot through Tina's hand. A yearning for another hand to touch it. A touch she would've never known had she not made that horrible decision all those years ago. She brushed a fingertip over her left ring finger.

Maybe things, even the worst of them, happened for a reason.

"Would've been nice if my birth mom were here to tell me all this though," Isabella said. "I could've told her that…I turned out okay."

"I'm sure she knows that," Tina murmured.

Isabella glanced up at the ceiling. "Think she's up there, watching?"

"Oh, she's watching, alright."

Just not from Heaven.

"Ya think," Tina said, taking a deep breath, "you'll ever forgive her?"

Isabella thought about it. "Too soon to tell. Hard to forgive someone ya never knew."

"That's fair."

On the far wall, Alastor's shadow manifested. It pointed to its wrist, then out the door, then shrugged its arms. It was asking when it was time to go.

If Tina had her way, she would never leave her daughter again. But her time on Earth was over. And she'd seen all she needed to see.

"Well," Tina said, rising, "I've said my peace. I hope, one day, ya can forgive your ma."

As she headed for the door, Isabella got up. "You're leavin' already?"

"My husband's expectin' me." That was another issue she had to address. "And he's a hell of a worry wart when it comes to me."

"Hey." Isabella stepped in front of her. "Can I get your number or something? So I can ask ya 'bout my ma some more?"

As much as Tina wanted to stay in contact with her daughter, she doubted it was possible for hell phones to receive calls from the living world. Nor did she think Stolas would allow repeated use of his grimoire without a price. Not to mention at some point, Tina would have to explain who she really was.

"I can't."

Isabella frowned. "Why not?"

After taking a moment to come up with an excuse, the demoness decided to go for a semblance of the truth. "I won't be in this world much longer."

Finley rose from the couch. "You're…dying?"

Tina nodded. "I didn't wanna leave with any regrets. I'd like to keep talkin' to ya, really. But I…can't get too attached." She held back the tears. "And there's…something else I need to take care of."

Isabella put a hand to her chest. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Tina smiled. "I just wanted to know that you were alright."

Her unknowing daughter twiddled her fingers. "I have so many more questions."

Then Tina had an idea. "Ya got a pen and paper?"

Finley went into the kitchen and came back with a notepad and pen. On the front page, Tina scribbled down a name and address and handed it to Isabella.

"This is the last known address of Pamela Davis," Tina said. "Your grandma."

"Grandma?" Isabella gazed at the paper. "I didn't even think about grandparents."

"Your grandpa died in the Birmingham Campaign. I'm not sure if your grandma still lives there, or if she's even still alive, but ya might have some relatives around there that can give ya answers."

Isabella sniffed. "I…I don't know what to say."

Neither did Tina. With all her words spent, she threw her arms around her daughter. Isabella raised her hands, unsure of how to respond. When Tina remembered that she still hadn't revealed her real identity, she backed off and smoothed the wrinkles out of her top.

"Err, sorry." She blushed. "Just got…a bit emotional there."

Isabella nodded. "It's cool."

"Well, uh…" Tina bit her lip. "Have a good life."

It was already better than her own.

If Tina stayed any longer, she would never be able to leave. With one last glance at her daughter, she was out the door.

"Wow," Finley said. "That was a bombshell. You okay, babe?"

Isabella did not reply, only stared at the notepad. Finley walked up to her and peered at the address.

"Alabama, eh? You gonna fly out there and hunt down your long-lost folks?"

"I don't know," Isabella muttered.

Finley laughed. "Ya never were one to make big decisions right off the bat. Took forever for ya to say yes to my proposal. Now, Alabama's always been pretty flippy with its politics, but who knows? Maybe ya got some ally cousins out there who'd be happy to meet ya."

Isabella smirked. "Ever the optimist."

"That's why ya married me. Although," Finley said, holding up her phone, "is it just me, or did that Charlotte Angel look scarily like ya?"

Isabella crossed her arms. "This ain't a 'all you black look the same thing,' is it, Fin?"

"Oh, not like that, but…the way she walked, the way she talked, even her bone structure, was a lot like…"

She pulled up another video of Tina Davis, watching as she did her routine. Then Finley shook her head.

"Nah. That's even crazier than her real name being Charlotte Angel."

For this scene, I took inspiration from my aunt who was adopted into the family at birth. Only recently did she get a DNA kit and found her biological family, but her birth mother had already passed away. She'd told me she'd had a lot of complicated feelings, learning about the mom who had given her up. Made me wonder just what her mom would've said, given the chance.