'That's right,' Mrs. Strich said. 'We must've literally passed each other on the highway. She got a ride from a Vermont family coming back from dropping their son off at NYU. She didn't need the money after all. Can you believe we made such a big deal of that?'
'I don't understand.'
'She got a ride home with a friend's parents. A new boyfriend, I think. The Lord was looking after her,' Mrs. Strich said, tears welling up in her eyes. 'I'm just sorry we put you to so much trouble.'
'No trouble,' I said. 'It's fine.'
I stood up. I wanted to get out of there. I took Melissa Strich's photo from my pocket and handed it to her father.
'I won't be needing this then.'
As it left my hand, I saw it was the wrong photo, the Polaroid of the girl with the green dreadlocks and pierced lower lip. Mr. Strich stared at it, looking lost.
'What is this?'
'It's...someone else's daughter.'
THE END.
