She nearly walked straight past him, you know. Just another lad huddled there, another bit of hardship you could choose not to see. For a second she was going to keep walkingbeen there a hundred times before, told herself a hundred times not to stop.
Im hungry please help me.
She gave him a few quid anyway, hardly even thinking about it. Yet something rooted her feet to the pavement.
And then she saw it.
A battered old locket, dull silver, hanging round his neck like itd had a life of its own. Can I have a look at that? she asked, curiosity getting the better of her. No hesitation at allhe just handed it over, trusting as anything.
She opened it as if in slow motion. And suddenly, her entire world tipped upside down.
Inside, there was an old photo.
It was herclear as day. Younger, cradling a newborn. The ache in her chest burst wide open all over again.
Her voice was barely thereshaky as you like. Where did you get this?
He met her eyes, completely open, and said what he had to say. Whatever it was, she frozeit was as if someone had pressed pause on everything.
Then, just like that, a voice from behind her called out the boys name. The city in all its usual hurry steamed pastrain speckling the kerb, cars sending water flying, umbrellas bobbing past, screens lighting up tired faces. Not a soul gave a second look to the pale boy sitting outside the chemist with his legs drawn in, jacket practically swallowing him. He was far too thin for it; too young, with eyes that looked years older.
Im hungry please help me.
She slowed down without even meaning to. Not because it was anything newshe knew all the stories by heart, even the ones people used to scare you away. No, it was his tonelike hed long since stopped expecting anyone to help.
For a moment longer, she considered moving on. She had been through enough to be wary; her mates were always warning her not to stop for strangers, not in London.
But rain dripped off his cuffs. He couldnt quite meet her gaze. And somewhere deep in her ribs, she felt that ache againthe one that had lived there since the hospital, seventeen years back.
She dug in her handbag for some cash.
Here you go, she said quietly.
He blinked, surprised.
You really dont have to
I know.
He pocketed the coins, awkward, a bit ashamed. Thank you.
She just nodded, and thats when she saw the chain. Old, worn, unmistakable. The kind of thing that holds a memory even if you wish it wouldnt.
Thats lovely, she murmured. Mind if I see it?
He paused, then took it off and handed it to her. He was so young to be carrying something so heavy. The locket was cold and oddly familiar in her palmthe edge dented, just like after shed dropped it on the hospital linoleum all those years ago.
Her hands shook even before she clicked it open.
And thenthere it was.
A worn photograph, a memory somehow caught on paper: her face, a baby bundled in pale blue, joy and exhaustion tangled together.
The air seemed to vanish from her lungs.
Because that photograph had gone missing seventeen years beforethe same night the doctors told her he hadnt survived surgery. The same night they never let her hold him again.
Her voice splintered, barely making a sound.
Where did you get this?
He replied at once, as if hed rehearsed it: My mum gave it to me before she passed.
She was absolutely still. Rain ran off the shop awning. The city surged around them, but the ground seemed to shake only beneath her feet.
He spoke again, softly. She told me if I ever ended up lost, I should look for the woman in the photo.
Her eyes filled to the brim in an instant. She clutched the locket so hard it left an imprint on her palm.
How old are you? she managed.
Seventeen.
Everything in her stoppedbecause seventeen was exactly, painfully right.
Now she really looked at him. The shape of his mouth, the little birthmark by his jaw. Oh God.
Her knees were about to go.
Thats when someone behind her called out, Ethan!
The boy turned. Across the road, under a smart black umbrella, stood an older mana tall, grey-haired chap in an expensive coat. The moment she caught his face, icy fear drenched her to the bone.
Shed know him anywhere.
Dr. Raymond Hale.
The surgeon whod signed her sons death certificate.
