Tabitha's POV
I stared blankly at the old lady. There was a maze of wrinkles on her face, and her eyes were so cloudy like they were covered in fog.
She seemed very excited, her hands feeling like dry tree bark as they gripped mine tightly, rubbing my knuckles raw.
She was way older than me. Why did she speak to me in such a respectful tone?
Why was she so hyped upon seeing me? We didn't even know each other.
"Ma'am, did you mistake me for someone else?"
"How could I have mistaken you? Miss, I never thought I'd see you in my lifetime! You look just like you did back then, with no changes at all."
She scrutinized me carefully before continuing, "No, you seem to have lost weight, and there's something a bit off about your face."
Mrs. Foster quickly spoke up, "Priscilla, you must have mistaken someone else for Tabitha. She has never been here before. This is the first time."
"Tabitha?"
The old lady named Priscilla circled around me, occasionally reaching out to gesture at my body.
"There's indeed something not quite right. You are taller and thinner than her, and you look a bit different too, but still, you two look so alike."
Derek and I exchanged glances. Could this old lady know someone from my family?
"Priscilla, please sit down and think it over slowly. Who do you say I resemble?"
"Miss Shana."
Miss Shana?
I'd never heard that name in my life, but this old lady might be the only one who had clues about my biological family.
So, I asked anxiously, "Who is Miss Shana? Where does she live? What's your connection to her?"
"Miss Shana is..."
She was about to say something but then froze up again and handed over her wool shawl instead. "Mrs. Foster, your daughter died such a tragic death. She was such a good girl."
"Priscilla, you haven't told me who Miss Shana is."
She then turned back to me with surprise written all over her face. "Miss, you're back..."
I felt utterly helpless.
Derek patted my shoulder reassuringly and said, "She must be getting forgetful due to her age. Be patient. There's no need to rush."
Mrs. Foster chimed in, "Yes, Priscilla's already in her eighties this year. She isn't blind or deaf; it's just these bouts of forgetfulness that come and go."
"Does she have any other family members?"
"No, her mate died a long time ago, and she has no kids. She's been living here since I was little, and she's never left."
"Then do you know what she went through before?"
"I'm not sure about specifics, but I've heard that about sixty or seventy years ago, when there weren't any packs around here, Priscilla used to be an Omega in some pack downtown."
After chatting with Priscilla for a while longer, I found that she really wasn't doing well, and her memory came in waves.
Having discussed this with Derek, I brought her back to Seattle.
I guessed that Miss Shana, whom Priscilla had once worked for, looked quite similar to me. Judging from her age, even if Miss Shana was still alive, she'd probably belong to my grandma or great-grandma's generation.
I didn't return to the seaside villa but went to another residence instead.
Priscilla spoke very little along the way, her eyes filled with nervousness and curiosity.
It was understandable, though. After all, she had been staying in that village for seventy years. Every city had already undergone tremendous changes, where not a trace of its past could be seen.
As soon as I entered the door, warm air greeted me. Priscilla instinctively bent slightly as if compelled by reflex and stood there respectfully, saying, "Welcome home, Miss."
I couldn't help wondering, 'Who exactly is this Miss Shana?
'And what kind of connection does she have with my biological family?'