“Aaron took me to see her while I was in London.”
Aaron nodded, his thumb brushing the edge of the tattoo.
“She wasn’t well by then, but she was having a good day.”
Alice looked down.
“She died three weeks later.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you,” Aaron said quietly.
Alice continued.
“Aaron stepped out for a few minutes while I was with her. Lana asked where I was from, so I told her.”
I watched Patrick closely.
“What happened?” I asked.
“We talked for a while. Then she looked at me for a long time.”
Patrick’s fingers tightened around the edge of the table.
“She said I had kind eyes.”
Her voice softened.
“Then she said there was something familiar about them.”
Patrick looked away first.
Aaron rubbed his thumb across Alice’s hand.
“I didn’t know she’d said that.”
“Why would I think it meant anything?” Alice said.
She looked at Patrick.
“Lana didn’t know who I was. She couldn’t have. I didn’t know who she was to Dad either.”
“She probably just saw something that reminded her of another time,” I said.
Alice nodded.
“Maybe. But after tonight, it feels different.”
Then she looked at me.
“This whole thing is completely crazy.”
“That’s one word for it.”
“But part of me is glad.”
I frowned.
“Glad?”
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