Imagine John Reese standing in a small NYC art gallery. He had come to the gallery the week before to pick up a painting that Finch had purchased for one of their safehouses. He had noticed the painting then that he was staring at now. It depicted a father and son, walking off a baseball field, each carrying a baseball mitt. The father’s arm was draped across his son’s shoulders, they were apparently on their way home after playing some father and son catch. It showed them only from behind, but Reese swore that the man would look exactly like his father if he turned around. Reese remembered these kind of days with his own father, and he hadn’t been able to get the image out of his mind. As he stood staring, a salesman came up and said “Great painting, huh?” “Uh…yes,” Reese stammered. “I have a friend who I think would like this one.” “Well, said the man, “here is a postcard with the artists name and contact number and a reproduction of the painting, you can give it to your friend.” “Thank you.” Reese replied, and then he walked outside the gallery. He paused under the awning of the store and looked at the postcard. His eyes started to fill with tears….it had been so long since he had seen his dad, or any of his family, the painting in a strange way brought that connection to family back… the feeling of being loved, and safe, knowing everything would always be alright. “Dad’. Reese whispered almost inaudibly…..”I” his voice caught in his throat, “Dad…I love you.” Reese put the postcard inside his suit jacket for safekeeping and went on his way.