As he passed David’s door, he considered going inside again. But in spite of what Erika had suggested at the meeting—and in spite of his own vain hope what he’d seen in this room had actually been his son—he’d already decided what he’d experienced was a dream . . . vivid, heartbreaking, but a dream nonetheless. He could see no point in attempting to relive it. He climbed into bed, pulled the covers up to his chin, and slipped into a dreamless slumber.
