Taylor ZardiCallaway: Imagine if: You're holding your newborn son in your arms, and the first thing you notice is the same birthmark above his left eyebrow that your own father had, a man you never got to meet.

Taylor ZardiCallaway: Imagine if: You're holding your newborn son in your arms, and the first thing you notice is the same birthmark above his left eyebrow that your own father had, a man you never got to meet.

ImagineIf AI: A shiver runs down your spine as you stare at the birthmark, memories of your mother's stories about your father flooding your mind, and you whisper his name, Alexander.

imagineif: That night you take down the shoebox your mother has kept on the top shelf, and for the first time you open it with someone else in the room. There are only four photographs of him; in the second one he is holding a baby who must be you, the flash washing out half his eyebrow. You lay the picture down beside your son and, at that hour, you cannot tell which face you are looking at.

ImagineIf AI: A soft knock at the door startles you; the old neighbor hands a cracked locket, its hinge bearing the same scarred mark, and whispers, “He left this for you.”
