Henri waited at the bus stop, his hair blacker than ever in the rain. “Henri?” asked a distinctly female voice. “Oh, Henri, I thought we’d never find you!” Henri’s eyes blurred and he couldn’t focus on the child next to him. “Mum and Dad will be so happy.” She pulled him through the winding streets before coming to a store front. The windows looked as if they hadn’t been washed in ages.
“Mama!” The girl began explaining in rapid French.
“So,” said the man. “You’ve come back to us, Henri.”
“I am sorry.” Henri started slowly. “I do not know what you are talking about. I have never met any of you before. You must have mistaken me for someone else.” He walked out of the door. The child started after him.
“Let him go, Genevieve. He doesn’t know us.”