The picture rested on the desk like a ticking time bomb.
Sebastian stared at it unmoving; every muscle in his body locked with tension. Amelia stood next to him, gaze wide with astonishment as she saw the image: Sebastian, years younger, torn shirt, blood running down his temple, steel handcuffs glittering against his wrists.
She knew the haunted stare in his eyes in the picture.
It was the same appearance he worked so relentlessly to erase from reality.
She muttered, her voice shaking, "Sebastian, what is this?"
He didn't immediately respond. Rather, he picked up the picture slowly and purposely, as though to touch it could cause him to relive the agony of that evening.
"It was a long time ago," he murmured, his voice gentle, gritty.
“But it happened.”
“Yes.”
She waited, not pres
