Claudia didn't recognize that voice at all -- but had been here long enough to know that that didn't mean anything. She hopped up, dodging around the larger metal bits of sewing machine on the floor, and opened the door.
". . . You're not going to claim I'm your mother, are you?"
no subject
". . . You're not going to claim I'm your mother, are you?"
What? You could never tell on this island.