I opened the door.
The man on my porch was older, grayer, and thinner than I remembered. He held a small wrapped box in one hand. His eyes were the same, though; Victor’s eyes.
I opened the door.
I grabbed the doorframe so hard my knuckles turned white!
“Oh, my God! How… how is this possible?! After all these years, you’re here?!”
“Please,” he said quietly. “I know I don’t have the right. Just give me five minutes.”
I stepped out onto the porch and pulled the door mostly shut behind me.
Hannah couldn’t hear this. Not yet.
“I know I don’t have the right.”
“Five minutes?!” I whispered. “You had 13 years, Victor! Where were you?! Where were you when Luke was in that hospital bed?!”
He flinched.
“He found me,” he said.
“What?”
“Luke. Before the surgery. He tracked me down. Sat across from me at a diner and told me everything.”
