My thoughts trail off when the footsteps grow nearer and a small human appears at the top of the stairs. He comes down, holding the spindles with each step, his tiny fingers wrapping around them like a vise. He looks no older than five, give or take. There’s no doubt who the little boy is. He’s the spitting image of Adrian with his dark hair and gray eyes. Only, his are lighter and bigger. My suspicions are confirmed when he hops down the last two steps, yelling, “Papa!”
