"How do I look, baby?"
Isabella turned from the mirror in the car, and I had to admit, the resemblance was almost perfect.
The face mask they'd created from Naya's scanned features fit seamlessly over Isabella's own face, looking so natural that if you didn't know to look for the slight edges along her hairline, you'd never guess it wasn't real skin.
I smiled and reached over to adjust the collar of her dress. It was a simple black outfit that looked appropriately sombre for someone who'd just lost their mother. "You look perfect and just like her."
"You're sure this will work?" Isabella's voice wavered slightly, and I could see the nervousness in her eyes even through the mask. "What if they can tell it's not really me—I mean, not really her?"
I took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly.
