Greta Campbell stood frozen in place, her face drained of all color, as though she had just seen a ghost from the past.
But the man standing before her wasn't just a ghost metaphorically, he was a haunting presence, a reminder of things she had buried deep within her memory, things she had tried to forget.
Her lips trembled slightly as her eyes locked with his, a feeling of dread creeping through her veins, the earlier joy she felt from seeing her daughter has now become a secondary, forgotten emotion.
It had been twenty four years, but the past had a way of resurfacing at the most unexpected times.
Greta's mind drifted back to a time when she had been much younger, her spirit livelier, her ambition unchecked.