He threaded his hands through his hair and gave me a slightly peeved look. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “Your mother talked a lot about you, the books you’ve read, the pranks you pulled on your aunt and cousins. What you loved to eat, how much you loved coffee. That day on the dock, I thought I was meeting someone I already knew, but you still surprised me. I wanted to laugh when you fled from me, that cheeky smile on your face.”
