She would want children of her own someday, and Tony would never be able to give them to her. His mind drifted back to the day his own son had entered the world, and he found it difficult to recall what he’d looked like. Panic set in as Tony laid down his fork and tried to conjure up an image of his son’s laughing face. Why could he not remember him? he wondered, frantically trying to grab hold of the smallest detail. Even his Joanne’s voice had faded to the point where he couldn’t recall her laughter. “Tony?” “Yes?” Tony glanced up to find the table’s occupants watching him with as if he’d grown an extra head. Naura studied his face. “Are you all right? You look as if you are about to be ill.” “I’m not feeling so well. I think I’ll go to my room and lie down for a bit.”
