Chapter 62 - The Photograph on the Mantel
During a supervised visit to the Vermont house, I met Leo in person for the first time. It was a short visit arranged through Dorothy and the attorneys, with no cameras or public announcement.
He stood behind the sofa clutching a toy train. His hair curled behind his ears, and he regarded me as if I might be a substitute teacher.
“You drew the train card,” he said.
“I did.”
“The wheels are wrong.”
“Probably. I'm better at buildings.”
He considered this, then allowed Dorothy to show me the photograph on the mantel: Elena Moretti laughing in a garden, her arms wrapped around a small child who appeared determined to escape.
“That's my mom,” Leo said.
“Yes,” I answered.
“She liked the yellow mug.”
“Dorothy told me.”
He studied my face. “Are you going to take it?”
May you like
“No,” I said. “Your memories belong here.”
His shoulders relaxed a little. It was the most important thing I said all afternoon.
