But unfortunately, Howard is that sharp. He didn't put the pieces together before, but now, able to look back and forth and compare faces, now that the strange familiarity has a name, he can't ignore it. Even though he so badly wants to.

It's there. The identical structure of the jaws, the eye sockets, the nose. One weighed down a little with age, the other fresh and tight with youth. And it's also there, the kind of loyalty between parents and their children that the rest of the world seems afforded, that he wasn't.

And it fills him with anger. He doesn't sneer or furrow his eyebrows or frown, but his eyes take on a deadened cast as that anger threatens to spill out and then turns back inwards. He knows that Sigma and K don't mean to dangle their alliance in front of him, but it doesn't help any to know that it's incidental.

He puts the knife away. He holds onto the charm. The battered orange fluff catches the dim light. He looks down at the top of his shoes. "Well, this is awkward."