“She’s not who she says she is.” The statement alone is enough to send a chill down someone’s spine.

Hearing it in regards to your own mother was a different experience entirely.

The warning bouced around her head for days. It lingered in the background, through every family dinner, every school pick up even during Fridays family movie night.

And if she watched her mother just long enough she could swear she could see it.

The way her movements weren’t quite natural. The way when her eyes caught the light there was a slight flare, like when you take a picture of an animal with the flash on.

How every so often her voice would wobble in a way that wasn’t entirely natural.

Once Amber noticed these things it only seemed to get worse. She would return home from her part time job at the store to find her mother stood in place. As if she hadn’t moved since Amber had left in the morning. Like she was paused in time until someone else arrived.

The warning was futile. Because what could she do. Her father wouldn’t believe her, he was never around enough to notice a change in his wife.

How could she explain that a stranger had warned her about her own mother.

So Amber kept silent. She continued with her life, with family dinners, school pick ups and movie nights. She continued on with the silent knowledge that the mother downstairs may not be the mother who birthed her.