Graham Black had been an exceptionally handsome man.
His son was no different.
She was about to hit play, but then she didn’t.
And Murtagh gave a concerned “Mwrr?”when the noise came from her throat.
But she’d taken out her contacts and now had her glasses onbecause her eyes were dry and scratchy from wearing the contacts on the plane.
It might be a trick of vision.
But she had to check.
So she took Murtagh up super-close to the screen, shoved herglasses up on her head, all so she could see.
“Yes,” she whispered staring at a specific spot on thescreen.“Oh my God,” she kept whispering.“Yes.”
She cuddled Murtagh closer and walked back to the couch.
As they settled in, Murtagh started purring and kneading.
Georgiana didn’t hit play.
She stared at the patch on the leather jacket Graham Blackwas wearing in that picture.
Through the threads on the border around the patch that saidChaos that was positioned over the heart, there was some unraveling, and on theleather, there was a scratch on either side of the minimal damage to thestitching on the patch.
The same as on the jacket Dutch wore that day.
It was his dad’s jacket.
It was his dad’s patch.
“Muwrrrr,” Murtagh said.
“Yeah,” she whispered, “I really, really,reallyreallyreallymessed up today, baby.”
“Murrr,” Murtagh toldher.
“No, it isn’t okay,” she replied.
“Mwrr?”
“I don’t think so.I think it’s who he is, to his bones, hisblood, his DNA, so he’ll never forgive me.”
“Muwrrr,” Murtagh decreed.
“I love you too, honey.”
Murtagh’s job was done (or so Murtagh thought), so Murtaghshut up.
Georgiana hit play.
As she watched, she paused a number of other times.
All whenhewas on screen.
Even when it was pictures of him as a little kid, or a baby.
