Her expression changed immediately.
“Jack’s wife.”
“You knew him?”
“He came to see Ethan.”
My knees nearly gave way.
“Can I see him?”
Denise studied my face.
Then stepped aside.
“Come in.”
A little boy sat on the floor building a wooden train track.
He looked up.
Dark eyes.
A stubborn cowlick.
I grabbed the back of a chair.
“Oh my God.”
Denise stepped toward me.
“Are you all right?”
“He looks like Jack.”
She glanced toward Ethan but didn’t answer.
“He does, doesn’t he?”
“I suppose a little.”
A little?
To me, the resemblance was overwhelming.
This had to be Jack’s son.
I became so convinced that I stopped considering any other explanation.
Denise gently said,
“Ethan, this is Claire.”
His face brightened.
“I know.”
I stared.
“You know me?”
“Jack showed me your picture.”
“He did?”
“And Lucy’s.”
“What did he tell you?”
“That Lucy likes dinosaurs.”
Despite