“Of course,” I say. I wonder what he sees when he looks at me. My blond hair, wide-set eyes, and high cheekbones—does he see Emily Sparrow when he looks at me? Or just the odd feature that’s familiar? And now that I really look at him, I see that my cheekbones and eyes could come straight from John. This might be why, when I saw Emily’s photo, I couldn’t see the resemblance between Mum and her. The blond hair is the one thing we share with Emily, but our faces favor John. Warmth floods through me, because I never knew Peter and Tansy or my father. And here is this kindly old man who regards me
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