When I got home from work that day, I was tired in a way only mothers understand — an exhaustion that lingers behind your eyes even when you’re smiling. I kicked off my heels, poured a glass of juice, and was halfway to the couch when I felt a tug on my sleeve.
“Mommy,” Lily said, wide-eyed and serious. “Want to meet your clone?”
“My what?” I gasped. Lily was only five—did she even know what a clone was?
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