And a small silver fish pendant around his neck.
When the detective called, I was standing in the kitchen.
“Margaret?”
My heart pounded.
“Yes?”
He took a breath.
“We found Ned.”
I dropped the glass I was holding.
It shattered on the floor.
Clara rushed in.
“Mom?”
I couldn’t speak.
The detective continued.
“He’s alive.”
I sank to my knees.
And began crying.
The reunion was different from the others.
Ned had been only nine when he disappeared.
Six years had changed him.
He remembered fragments.
Our house.
The swing.
The lake.
His brothers.
But some memories were blurred.
And the people who had raised him under the false story had become part of his life.
He was frightened.
Confused.
And overwhelmed.
The professionals helping him advised us to move slowly.
So I did.
When I first saw him, he stood near the doorway.
He was taller than I remembered.
