He then cautiously explained to Mrs. Peterson about the woman on his flight who bore an uncanny resemblance to her daughter and his late wife Elise. He showed her a photo he had taken, serving as proof of the startling similarity. As Mrs. Peterson’s eyes filled with tears, Jack could see a mix of surprise and confusion in her expression, mirroring his own feelings.
“Are you okay, Mrs. Peterson?” Jack asked gently, noticing her discomfort. “I know this must be tough, but I really need to understand what’s happening. Sorry for bringing this up.” Mrs. Peterson, visibly shaken, took a deep somewhat unsteady breath. “Jack, dear,” Mrs. Peterson said, her voice trembling slightly, “could you please get me the photo album from my bedside drawer?”