My stomach tightened. I crouched down to his level and kept my voice easy.
“Hey. It’s probably just something that looks like hers. Remember the lady at the grocery store wearing her favorite color who stopped you in your tracks?”
“He has Mommy in there.”
“And how seeing that familiar perfume bottle had you crying? Buddy, I’m sure it’s just something similar.”
“No,” Ben shook his head so hard that water flicked off his hair. “It’s Mommy’s! I saw it!”
Before I could get another word out or ask what he’d seen, the man swung his locker shut, grabbed a towel off the hook, and headed toward the showers without looking our way.
I tried to forget it.
“It’s Mommy’s! I saw it!”
But then I noticed that the man’s door hadn’t latched all the way. A corner of his towel was pinched in the seam, holding it open maybe half an inch.
