“You’re mommy’s friend, aren’t you?” the boy asked.
“Yes,” Williamson said.
“What’s your name?”
“Phillipe Williamson.”
“You have the same name as me!”
“I do…”
“Do you know what happened to me, Mr. Williamson?”
“There was an accident, Phillipe.”
“Was it my fault?”
“No, it wasn’t your fault, Phillipe.”
“Where’s my Mommy?”
“She’s right there, at the back of the church, waiting for you…”
“Mommy!”
Little Phillipe ran down the aisle and jumped into Mrs. Williamson’s open arms and faded away.
Williamson woke up from his pleasant dream. He opened his eyes and saw a soft glowing light. In the doorway, Carlotta stood in her lingerie holding a candle. Williamson couldn’t tell if it was another dream at first, or real.
“Bella Lisa?”
“No, Phillipe, it’s me, Carlotta. Are you awake?” Car
