My Brother My Mate
There, on the screen, sat a sketch of what the missing princess may look like now.
And next to the TV, in the reflection of my mirror, sat a very similar-looking girl.
“This is what the family estimates the princess to look like now, at eighteen years old,” the news caster explained. “She is estimated to be about five-foot-three with curly brown hair, large blue eyes, and most notably: a small, snowflake-shaped birthmark on her earlobe.”
The news caster’s voice faded into the background as I stared back and forth between the drawing on the screen and my own reflection. The resemblance wasn’t quite the same, but it was uncanny.
Bab Populer