Chapter 2: The Photograph He Never Stopped Carrying
I couldn't move.
I couldn't speak.
Grandpa was still holding Nora, but his arms had gone rigid.
He kept staring at her eyes like he was seeing something that should not exist.
"Grandpa, please.
You're frightening me."
He finally looked up at me.
"Caleb," he said slowly.
"What did he look like?"
"Dark hair.
Tall.
His eyes were—"
"One blue.
One almost black."
I hadn't told him that.
My legs went weak.
I grabbed the porch railing to keep from falling.
"How do you know that?"
He didn't answer right away.
He pressed his lips together and looked down at Nora's face with an expression so full of pain that I almost couldn't watch.
"Because I've seen those eyes before," he said quietly.
"A long time ago.
On someone I failed to protect."
"Who?"
He shook his head slowly.
"Your mother didn't want you to ever know.
She was so afraid of what it would do to you."
"Grandpa." My voice broke.
"Tell me."
He reached into his shirt pocket with one trembling hand and pulled out a small photograph.
Old.
Worn at the edges.
He had been carrying it with him.
He held it out to me.
I took it.
And the world stopped making sense.
---
What was in that photograph — and what does it mean for Nora's future?
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The truth is more heartbreaking than anyone expected.
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