The same eyes.
The same mouth.
Even the same haircut.
However, the photo was taken twenty-seven years earlier.
On the back, someone wrote:
MARGARET IS NOT THE FIRST. ASK
DANIELA, WHICH HAPPENED TO THE OTHER THREE.
My hands started trembling.
I looked at a young man standing by the hospital bed.
He looked just like Daniel.
But how could my thirty-one-year-old husband be in a picture taken twenty-seven years ago?
Before I could say anything, someone knocked on the door of the office.
Margaret?
My heart stopped beating for a moment.
That was Daniel.
Honey, I know you're there.
I pressed the photograph to my chest.
– Then explain why you kept this research from me!
There was silence for a few seconds.
Finally, Daniel answered from behind the door:
Because I thought I could protect you.
– Protect from what?
His voice trembled.
Before what happened...
...to the others.”
Dr. Reeves stayed with me when I agreed to let Daniel in.
I said, however, that he should remain on the other side of the room.
He looked exhausted.
His carefully tailored suit was crushed and his hands trembling.
I lifted the photograph.
Who is this woman?
Daniel stared at the picture.
