Odegaard's Resemblance

The conference hotel's packed lobby was bathed in a golden glow as the sun rose through the floor-to-ceiling windows the following morning. As Rachel sipped her coffee at a little café table, her thoughts were racing.

She was more shaken than she cared to admit after her encounter with Alexander last night, and she was still thinking about Henry Sterling's enigmatic letter. "Mom, is it possible for us to visit the aquarium after breakfast"? Odegaard's upbeat voice cut through her thoughts.

Rachel grinned eagerly as she looked up at her child, who was sitting on the edge of his chair. The same eyes that plagued her every time she thought of Alexander were met by his dark hair. She tousled his hair and pretended to grin. "We'll see, my love.

We may be able to find some time after my meeting this morning. Odegaard smiled, his enthusiasm infectious. "I'll hold you accountable!" Rachel chuckled quietly, grateful for the little return to normality. She grabbed her phone to see what time it was, but she froze when she heard a familiar voice.

"Rachel." Looking up, she saw Alexander standing a few yards away, his face quite unprecise, and her heart fell. Despite the stress in her body, she asked steadily, "What are you doing here?" Alexander looked from her to the boy who was seated next to her. His self-assured manner wavered briefly.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he glanced at Odegaard, who was not paying attention. Alexander said, "I came for coffee," but it was obvious he wasn't paying attention.

Rachel felt sick to her stomach. She scaled to her feet and positioned herself between Odegaard and Alexander. "We're simply heading out." "May I finish my muffin first, Mom?" Odegaard inquired, his eyes wide as he glanced up at her. Alexander looked back at Rachel, who hesitated, her heart pounding.

"Is this your son?" In a low voice tinged with something she didn't quite understand, Alexander asked. She looked him in the eyes and squared her shoulders. Yes he is. This is Odegaard. Alexander lowered his head a little to look into the child's eyes. Hello, Odegaard.

My name is Alexander. Odegaard grinned after leaning his head curiously. "Hello, Alexander. Do you and my mother have a friendship? Rachel put a protective hand on Odegaard's shoulder and felt her chest tense. With more certainty, she stated, "We were just leaving." However, Alexander stood up straight and fixed his gaze on Odegaard's face.

"Odegaard, how old are you?" Without hesitation, the child answered, "Six." Rachel could see the thoughts racing through Alexander's mind as his face stiffened. She had hoped he would never be able to perform the computations he was performing.

Despite the intense curiosity in his gaze, Alexander responded, "That's a great age." Rachel gripped Odegaard's shoulder more tightly. "Go quickly, my love.

"Wait," Alexander said in a low, panicked voice as we started to leave. As he got closer, Rachel halted, panting. Hardly audible above a whisper, Alexander murmured, "He looks... familiar." The sight of his gaze made Rachel's heart race.

"You're making things up." "Am I?" His voice was so intense that it made her stomach turn. Odegaard interrupted her before she could reply. "Do you know me ?" Odegaard lifted his big eyes to Alexander and questioned naively.

For a brief period, Alexander's face softened, and Rachel was taken aback by how intensely passionate his eyes were. He said in a hushed voice, "I don't think we've met before." "But you remind me of someone," I said in response. "Who?" Odegaard was intrigued. Rachel stepped in and spoke up.

"That's enough. Come on. Despite his scowl, Odegaard followed her instructions and put his hand in hers as she escorted him out. Alexander, however, was far from finished. He shouted after her, "Rachel," in a voice full of implicit orders. She didn't turn around.

She was unable to. --- Rachel sat in her hotel room later that afternoon and examined herself in the mirror. She was thinking about a lot of different things, including fear, rage, and regret. Although she had anticipated this day, she had not anticipated how... overpowering it would feel. Her heart leaped into her throat when she heard a knock on the door.

Her heart pounding, she stepped forward and looked through the peephole. Alexander was the one. He pounded again, harder this time, and she thought about not answering. "I know you're in there, Rachel.

Go ahead and open the door. She inhaled deeply and opened it, her face restrained. "What are you looking for?" His presence filled the room as he entered without waiting for an invitation. "We must speak." She crossed her arms across her chest and muttered, "There's nothing to talk about." He shook his head in obvious frustration.

"Rachel, don't do this. Don't ignore me. "Alexander," she cried, "I don't owe you an explanation." "Don't you?" As he shot back, his tone was just as sharp.

"You turn up with a six-year-old who looks exactly like me after years of disappearance, and you expect me to just... ignore it?" Rachel's throat constricted. He is my son. That's all you need to know. "But is he my son?" With his gaze searching hers for the truth, Alexander demanded. Unable to look at him, Rachel cast a sidelong glance.

"Alexander, this is none of your business." His voice broke slightly as he said, "It is if he's mine." Her chest ached from the sheer intensity of his words, yet she was unable to lower her defenses. Not right now. Alexander said, "Please, Rachel," much more gently.

"All I want is the truth." Her thoughts were racing as she closed her eyes. How could she be honest with him without revealing all that she had fought so hard to keep safe? The door opened and Martha entered with a worried expression on her face before she could respond.

"What's happening here?" Martha asked, looking from one to the other. "Just in time," Alexander remarked sourly. Perhaps you could explain to me what your daughter is 'hiding'.

Is Odegaard my son? Surprise widened Martha's eyes, but she quickly covered it up. "This conversation is not appropriate at this time or location." According to Alexander, "It's long overdue." Rachel's voice trailed off as she glanced at her mother.

"Mom, please—" However, Martha interrupted her. "He deserves to know the truth, Rachel." Rachel's heart sank when she saw Alexander's brilliant eyes. Odegaard's voice interrupted them just as they were about to conclude.

"What is the truth?" The youngster stood in the doorway, his innocent eyes confused, and all three turned to look at him. When Rachel understood there was no going back, her breath seized in her throat.