Maria lay on her back next to the bay window, tracing her fading stretch marks with two fingers. She had recently given Antonio their first child, and her belly was still soft, though she had started working out again, when she had the time.
As she lay on the floor in the patch of carpet illuminated by the window, she stared out the window, at the sliver moon winking out from behind the light fog that layered the earth. The eerie light of the moon shone onto her face, brought the features of her face into sharp relief. Her slightly hooked nose and her delicate cheekbones were enhanced by the rough shadows beneath them. Her eyes were large and brown, with long eyelashes that brushed her cheeks when she blinked. Her hair was a deep, dark shade of brown.
She sat up, and pressed her hand softly against the window pane, feeling the cold infiltrate her bones. Decembers in her small town always come hard, and she was used to the cold. She stared grimly out the window, and noticed for the hundredth time the absence of the second car in the driveway. Antonio was on a business trip, and he would not be back for another three days, and, having been married for almost four years, this felt like a long time to Maria.
Maria shivered.
Getting up, she shuffled to the kitchen, where she had left her shawl draped over a chair. Sighing, she shrugged it on. She felt fatigued. She imagined Antonio in a meeting, hoping he was thinking about her. He had promised to call her tonight, but he hadn't yet.
Going over to the stove, she took the kettle in her hand. The metal handle felt freezing in her palm. She filled her kettle and put it onto the burner. She was preparing a cup of tea when she heard the baby crying upstairs.
'That's odd', she thought to herself, 'I just put her down fifteen minutes ago.'
She traipsed up the stairs and into the baby's room.
She stopped in the doorway and stared in shock, into the baby's room.
However, it wasn't the room itself that was shocking. There were a few teething rings lying on the floor, a couple articles of clothing folded near the entrance of the closet. The room was painted a light, flowery yellow. Maria and Antonio had decided on it because it was gender-neutral, as they had decided to keep the baby's sex a secret until the birth. They were delighted to find that she was a girl. They named her Lily, after Maria's favorite flower.
No, the thing that scared and surprised Maria was the woman standing next to the crib, staring down at Lily, who had now stopped crying.
The stranger looked up at Maria. She was tall and graceful-looking, with long, flowing, blonde hair and eyes like two bright emeralds. She was swathed in silk and lace and gauze, and the bangles at her wristed clinked together musically. She seemed to float as she walked over to Maria, who was still standing in horror in the doorway.
