Amber Inalert (Patreon)

There isn't a shadow of a doubt. It is his face, two years younger if the text is the be believed, but unmistakenly his. "Matthew Wilson", it says, "age 17 was last seen outside the Odeon theatre after having seen the 'Hypnotic Henry' show." It then went on with some physical descriptions that are way off, though the height is close.

"You recall any of that?", Roy asks while taking back his phone and starts to scroll through the page.
"No, none of it. Well, Matthew feels right, but you know... It's pretty close to Marc."
"I won't stop saying Marc.", Tony butts in.
"It's weird though. It's still like an 8 month gap from this date and when we found you", Roy says, looking up from the phone. "And you looked nothing like in these photos. Almost as big as you are now."

Fuck. What should he do? He has a pretty good life here with good friends sharing an apartment, working together, working out together. Somewhere on the other side of the country is a family that lost their son, perhaps searching for him, perhaps presuming him for dead. But I don't know them. I couldn't even remember my own name. For all practical purposes I'm still dead to them, even if I do contact them. Fuck.