You look just like... her," the old man stuttered, pointing at a faded painting.
The woman in the portrait bore an uncanny resemblance to me, down to the pendant I always wore.
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Who was she? Was she a relative of mine? As I scanned the room, several other paintings stared back, all of which depicted women identical to me. The old man seemed to notice my confusion and horror.
“She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen,” he said wistfully, eyes glued to the portrait. “Her name was Maria, and she lived...