CHAPTER 113
Cooper's fingertips skimmed over the glossy photographs spread out across his bedroom floor. Familiar faces stared back at him. Ryan at the winter gala, his eyes wide with surprise and annoyance. Vincent sitting on the hood of Cooper's Mustang, a broad smile on his face. Tom frowning down at his camera— looking at pictures of his own, perhaps. And Calla. Sitting under the oak tree. Standing in her driveway. Glaring at him in the hallway. Cooper's collection had grown steadily over the years. Many of these photographs were innocent—shots he'd collected for yearbook and had chosen to safeguard, a reel of memories that he could return to whenever he chose. But a select few had been taken as evidence. Each one was a dark reminder of the fate he had so narrowly escaped two years ag
- Writer
