We reached a quiet corridor near the physics laboratory before Owen finally asked the question I had been dreading.
“Mom?”
I stopped.
“That was our dad, wasn't it?”
I looked from one face to the other.
Eli had Daniel's eyes.
Owen had Daniel's jaw.
I had spent sixteen years seeing pieces of my former husband in both boys, even when I desperately wished I wouldn't.
“Yes, sweetheart.”
Eli stared toward the corridor behind us.
“He didn't recognize us.”
There was no anger in his voice.
That made it worse.
Owen rubbed his thumb across the edge of his contestant badge.
“Does he know how old we are?”
I opened my mouth.
Nothing came out.
Because the truth was that I didn't know.
Daniel had left when the twins were three.
For the first few months, he'd called occasionally. Then the calls became shorter. Eventually, they stopped.
Birthdays passed without cards.
