[He's quiet for several days, unsure how to respond. The girl in the photograph looks well. More than well. Better than the last time he'd seen Marta, by a country mile. She almost looks like the person he used to know, way back before Sawyer was born. The expression on her face is similar to the one she'd often had when Seven occupied himself with her swollen belly: just barely tolerant, maybe a little bemused.
It guts him, but he's so simultaneously relieved that she's even alive that it takes him several moments to decide how he wants to approach this information. He knows that her number isn't the same, because he spent a year trying to call it after Marta had disappeared, and another again when Sawyer had first been diagnosed and her doctors wanted to know if she'd be a donor match for marrow. He also knows that there's a reason she chose not to include her return address with the photograph.