A voice inside me reasoned, shattering my illusion that my son was still alive. Summoning all the courage I could muster, I grabbed the phone and stared at the screen once more. A soft whimper tore from my parted lips, and tears drifted down my flushed cheeks as my eyes surveyed the child's hazel-green eyes that reminded me so much of my ex-husband.
He looked so much like him! I sobbed, clutching the phone tightly in my shaking fingers. He was just thinner, as though he hadn't been eating well, and his hair was long, as though it hadn't been cut for years. But despite those minor differences, he indeed resembled Dylan. He even had the mole my son had on the side of his eye.
Thinking about my son now made old wounds open up. Pain violently hammered my chest until it felt tight, and I had
