It's him. Tom. I helped put his mom in prison for life. She killed his father. I recognize the sharp nose and flare to the nostrils. His thick eyebrows and defined cheekbones. But mostly it's the eyes. Sea green.
But my daughter, Joni, keeps calling him Michael. And they're here at the lake house telling us they're getting married. She loves him. But I know he's lying It must be him. But what do I say?
Suddenly I'm thrust back fifteen years, looking through photos of a violent and bloody murder scene. We haven't been the perfect family. But we got through it together. I will do anything to protect us, to protect the life we've fought for.
