She looked from me to her son… and then to his eyes.
I stood on that porch for a moment I couldn’t measure, trying to uderstand what had just happened to me.
I heard them processing it, too — muted voices that didn’t carry through the door well enough for me to make out what they were saying to each other.
Then I turned and ran back home.
Carl was in the living room when I got back, reading. He looked up when I came in.
“You’re back already?” he asked.
I turned and ran back home.
I sat down beside him on the couch.
“Carl. The boy next door.”
“What about him?”
“He looks like Daniel.”
Carl shut his book but didn’t say anything.