“The Forgotten Lullabies”

Lauren nearly dropped her teacup. Her fingers trembled as she placed it back on the saucer, her face paling.

*”I—I don’t know what you mean,”* she stammered.

I kept my voice steady. *”Five years ago. What happened? Why does my daughter know your lullabies?”*

Lauren swallowed hard, her eyes darting toward the front door as if considering an escape. Then, she exhaled shakily and looked at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read—guilt, fear… sadness?

*”I was hoping you’d never ask,”* she whispered.

My stomach tightened.

*”Amy was right,”* Lauren admitted. *”She *has* heard my lullabies before… but not in this life.”*

I felt my body go cold. *”What are you saying?”*

Lauren clenched her hands together. *”I used to work as a nanny… for a little girl named Lily. Five years ago. She was six years old—just like Amy.”* Her voice cracked. *”There was a fire… I tried to get to her, I swear, but I couldn’t. She didn’t make it.”*

The room spun.

*”And Amy…?”* I managed.

Lauren’s eyes filled with tears. *”Sometimes, I think she *is* Lily. I started noticing it when she hummed the tunes before I even sang them. When she said words Lily used to say. When she looked at me like she *remembered* me.”*

I felt goosebumps rise across my arms. Amy had never met Lauren before this year. Never heard her lullabies—except in her dreams, in a past she didn’t know existed.

I clutched the edge of the table, staring at the babysitter who had unknowingly stepped back into the life of a child she once lost.

Amy wasn’t just remembering the songs.

She was remembering *her past life.*