Nina's POV
For several seconds, neither Amber nor I said a word after seeing the photograph.
I kept staring at the screen, convinced that if I looked long enough, the face would change into someone else. I wanted it to be a mistake. I wanted it to be a stranger who merely resembled Richard Wolfe. Unfortunately, the more I looked at the image, the more certain I became.
It was him.
The photograph was old and slightly blurred, but there was no mistaking the sharp features, the posture, or the unmistakable presence of a man who had spent most of his life believing he was untouchable.
Richard Wolfe had been at the scene of my parents' accident.
The realization settled heavily over the room.
"Where did this come from?" I finally asked.
Amber lowered herself back into her chair and took
