He handed it to me.
My fingers shook as I unfolded it.
It was a photocopy of a photograph.
Grainy. Slightly crooked.
A younger Sophie stood outside what looked like a courthouse, hair shorter, face softer, one arm linked through that of an older woman whose features tugged at something in my memory.
Not because I knew her.
Because I knew the man standing beside her.
Cameron.
Younger by perhaps six or seven years.
No wedding ring.
No white coat.
Just Cameron, looking directly at the camera with one hand resting lightly on Sophie’s shoulder.
I stared until the image blurred.
My mother leaned closer, then went very still.
“Amelia,” she said slowly, “turn it over.”
I flipped the paper.
On the back, someone had written a single sentence.
Ask Cameron what happened to Grace.
The room was silent except for the monitor beside my bed.
Grace.
The name meant nothing to me.
But apparently it meant something to Cameron.
Because just beyond the door, in the hallway where he was not supposed to be, someone dropped a cup.
The sound cracked through the quiet.
A second later, Cameron’s voice came from the other side of the door, broken and unmistakably afraid.
“Where did you hear that name?”
END OF PART 2 – LIKE, SHARE AND COMMENT “THE ENTIRE STORY” IF YOU WANT TO READ THE FULL STORY
