Like Luna Reilly, the time traveler who tried to fight off Coron in 1918 and died for it. My hands grip the steering wheel. I want to tell myself it isn’t possible. But as I look at the two of them there, my daughter and this little boy, so spellbound by each other, I know what I’m seeing. Two of the first families in my daughter, and—I am guessing—the other two in him. Four pieces of the puzzle, in the same place at last.
