Older.
Fragile.
But when she looked at me, I knew her immediately.
Her mouth opened.
No sound came out.
I couldn’t move.
Neither could she.
Finally, she whispered:
“Michael?”
That voice.
Fourteen years disappeared.
I was nine again.
I crossed the room in three steps.
She reached for me.
And I fell into my mother’s arms.
She sobbed against my shoulder.
“I’m sorry.”
I held her tighter.
“I thought you were dead.”
“I know.”
“I thought you left me.”
“I know.”
“I needed you.”
Her body shook.
“I know.”
There are apologies too large for words.
Hers was one of them.
So we stopped trying.
We just held each other.
After a while, she pulled back and touched my face.
“You have his eyes.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Apparently I have a lot more of him than I realized.”
She looked toward Frank.
“Daniel?”
Frank’s eyes lowered.
