I set the clutch on a narrow shelf and worked the packet out carefully, trying not to tear the corners.

My hands began shaking only after I was alone.

I laid the photograph faceup.

The boy smiled at me from a moment that had nothing to do with my fear.

His dinosaur was green.

His shirt was crooked at the collar.

He looked like a child who had been asked to hold still and had managed it for half a second.

I did not know whether he was Christopher’s son.