Dark curls.
Sharp features.
My chin.

I told myself I was imagining it. People see what they want to see.

But then he smiled and walked over.

“Hi,” he said. “I’m Miles. Looks like we’re neighbors.”

We exchanged a few normal words, but I barely heard any of them.

I went back inside shaking.

My father was in the kitchen.

I said, “The new neighbor looks like me.”