Garin stared down at the people in the picture. He could see Willow in both of them. She had her mother’s sharp features and jaw, but the shape of her eyes was all her father’s. Her mother’s eyes glowed even in the picture, aged by twenty years. He looked at her father. He was ordinary, his eyes a regular, human brown. There was something similar about him. It was as if he had seen him somewhere before, but he brushed it off, probably just seeing the similarities in Willow. ...