Walter had dressed carefully in a blue sweater that his sister knitted before she died.
He carried a photograph of Peter’s parents in his pocket.
When Tessa called him inside, he paused beside Emily.
“What if he doesn’t remember me?”
“Then you can tell him about yourself,” she said.
“What if he wants nothing to do with us?”
“Then you can love him from here.”
Walter nodded and disappeared into the office.
Emily sat in the hallway for nearly an hour.
The receptionist offered her tea, which she left untouched.
When Walter returned, his eyes were red and his hands shook.
He sat without speaking.
Emily waited.
“He remembered the boiler room,” Walter finally said.
“He remembered you teaching him the planets.”
He laughed once through his tears.
“He asked whether I still make terrible pancakes.”
Emily covered her mouth.
Walter told her that the man now called himself Daniel Price legally, but he had kept the name Peter in a private notebook since childhood.
He was married, worked as a respiratory therapist, and had a little girl.
He had built a life he valued.
Learning the truth about his childhood did not make that life false.
“He asked about his mother,” Walter said.
Emily took his hand.
Walter had told him that his mother died believing he might still be alive.
Peter had been quiet for a long time.
Then he asked for a copy of her last letter.
“Did he want to meet you?” Emily asked.
“He wants another call first.”
“That’s good.”
Walter nodded.
“It is.”
He stared at the green lunchbox on Emily’s lap.
“He asked whether I still had this.”
Emily opened the lid and showed him the faded Saturn sticker.
Walter smiled through tears.
“I told him I did.”
He had not mentioned the public forum or the media coverage.
Peter had already seen some stories online and was distressed to learn how his childhood was being discussed by people who did not know him.
Emily asked whether she should stop speaking publicly.
Walter relayed Peter’s request instead.
He wanted public discussion to focus on the records and the decisions that changed children’s names, not on the intimate details of his life.
Emily promised to respect that boundary.
She felt relief, but not the triumph she had once imagined a reunion would bring.
The years could not be restored.
Peter’s mother would not hear his voice again.
And the boy who had been renamed by strangers was now a man with the right to choose which name he used.
