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“Morning. I’m sorry to turn up like this. I saw your video.”

That voice.

Leo was past Nate before the man finished speaking. The face was wrong, older, but then Walt turned a little and Leo could see his eyes.

“Walt.”

He reached for him. There was nothing to think about. He wanted, needed, his arms around him, wanted to put his face against his neck and hold on. Walt was here. He was here! He’d come to the house himself, and Leo had so many things to ask him, but they could wait. Everything could wait until he’d held him.

His hands went through Walt’s shoulders.

“No! Wait!”

He tried again. Stupid. He knew how this worked. He knew! But he couldn’t accept it. Walt was right there. Leo could smell the cigarettes on his jacket. He should be able to touch.

“Leo?” Nate said.

Leo turned to him, his hands still raised.

“It’s him! Nate, it’s him!”

Walt’s gaze moved between Nate and the space where Leo stood. “Is he here?”

Understanding dawned on Nate’s face. “Yes,” he said. “He’s right in front of you.”

Leo gestured. “Tell him I know him.”

“He recognized you.”

Walt’s mouth opened, but it took him a moment to speak. “Danny?”

His name. That must be his name.

Leo had wanted it back for so long. But with Walt looking at him like that, it barely registered. Well, almost looking at him. His gaze had drifted a little too far to the right. He couldn’t see Leo.

“I’m here,” Leo said, as if that would help.

Walt looked toward Nate again.

“He says he’s here,” Nate told him. “He can hear you. I’ll tell you what he says.”

Walt pressed a hand over his mouth. Leo looked at the loose skin, the spots across the back of it. His gaze moved to Walt’s gray hair, then to the lines around his eyes.

He’d gotten old. He’d lived every one of the fifty years Leo had been stuck in this house. That was good. That was amazing. It did mean that he had changed, though, into someone other than the boy in Leo’s hazy memory.

Leo wanted to examine every unfamiliar part of him.

“Come inside,” Nate said.

Walt hesitated, still looking into the space in front of him.

“Please,” Leo said.

Nate stepped back. “He’d like you to.”

That got Walt through the door. Leo moved beside him, watching his face as he took in the hallway. He wanted to ask where Walt had been. Whether he’d known Leo was here. Mostly he wanted Walt to keep talking. He liked the sound of his voice and how well it slotted into his memories.

In the sitting room, Walt stopped in front of the painting.