Albert
I wasn’t sure when he stood up. One moment I was halfway across Edward’s living room, body tense and mind screaming at me to leave, to run, before I did something I would regret. The next, I was frozen in place, holding a small, timeworn photo in my trembling fingers. My image smiled up at me from the glossy paper. I couldn’t have been older than sixteen.
It wasn’t just the photo itself that stopped me. It was the fact that it was here, in Edward’s house.
Why?
I didn’t remember this one being taken. Maybe it had been during one of those long summer days, when I had lounged on our back porch with a book, casting glances at the neighbor next door who never seemed to look back. I would sit there barefoot, reading cheap romance novels with predictable endings, wondering what it wou
