The hospital room was at the end of the hall. I stood outside it with my hand on the door, trying to understand how I’d gotten there. Forty-one years.
That’s how long it had been since I’d seen Jeffrey.
I stood outside it with my hand on the door.
Forty-one years since his last letter and since he’d asked me not to contact him again.
And now his son, Peter, stood beside me, saying, « He’s been asking if you’re here yet. »
I looked at him.
Peter had Jeffrey’s eyes.
« Is he awake? »
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