Frank rose when Neville came into the room, and he knew he looked dishevelled and ragged. He hadn't had a shower or a shave, and his eyes probably were puffy from being drugged.
He smiled softly as the man before him began to speak. Neville didn't know it, but he sounded like his grandfather and that caused Frank's chest to tighten.
Frank took Neville's hand and looking down saw how alike their hands were, though Neville's nail beds were narrower like his mother's. "Last time I saw you, your mother had just given you a bath. You were dressed in a yellow one-piece with a baby duck on the front," Frank said, his voice trembling.
He swallowed, looking at Neville's face and feeling so proud it almost hurt. "It's nice to meet you too, son."