“Who’s this?” It’s a child, a toddler, maybe three or four. “You don’t know?” “No. How would I know?” “It’s me.” I lean closer to get a better look. “What? No way. That can’t be you. The photo is too old.” “That’s just because it’s black-and-white. It’s me.” I’m not sure I believe him. The child is barefoot and standing on a dirt road beside a tricycle. The child has long hair and is glaring at the camera. I look even closer and feel a twinge in my stomach. It doesn’t look like Jake. Not at all. It looks like a little girl. More precise: it looks like me.
