My mom.
“I feel like whatever is inside this is going to change things,” I whispered.
“Yeah, probably. Maybe,” Sebastian said, being entirely unhelpful. He nodded for me to open it.
Slowly, I cracked the first page—and my breath caught in my throat.
Photos of my mother as a young woman with a handsome man her age were in each slot. I stared at each one carefully, flipping to the next page, finding more of the two.
“I’ve never seen these before,” I said in disbelief. “She looks…in love.”
Photos of them at the beach, skiing in the snow, camping, smiling, and laughing.
“Who is this guy?” I asked, pulling out a photo of just him. He was a handsome, tan man with thick auburn hair and a full beard to match. He had hazel eyes and a chiseled jawline. It was easy to understand why she was in love with him. I put the photo back in its slot and kept looking through the book.
My mom had to have been in her twenties when these were taken. It was hard to judge her age because she took great care of herself until the very end, but the fashion choices made it easier to put a time stamp on things.
Sebastian finished his energy drink and sat up, his shoulders bouncing excitedly. “I had the same question, so I pulled one out to see if there was anything written on the back.”
I stopped on a page of them at a picnic and pulled a photo out. It stuck to the plastic, and I worried I’d tear it, but I finally managed to ease it out, flipping it over and reading aloud.
“Lita and Charles, summer 2000. This was before I was born. She was...” I shook my head. “Who is this?”
“Keep going,” he urged.
I continued flipping through the book, viewing a timeline of their love.
Lita and Charles—Paris
Lita and Charles—Hawaii
Lita and Charles—on location
Charles’s first sale
The last set of photos was of Charles standing in front of various houses and buildings, beaming.
We reached the last page, and Sebastian leaned in, putting his finger on one of the photos. I squinted at the sign he was pointing to, and when it registered, my heart stopped.
It was a real estate sign.
“My mom was in love with Charles Hodder,” I gasped.
“Seems that way.”
Charles was on my list. He was the next one, in fact.
The real estate tycoon. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t recognized him.
I shoved the book away. It fell to the floor, and Sebastian leaned down to pick it up.
“How could he—he led her to the fucking slaughter,” I snarled. “I can’t believe this!” I was at a loss for words. It was clear that at one time they’d been in love, and yet, he was one of the men who’d killed her. What had happened in the time between these photos and that night she died?
“I know. I had no idea she was ever romantically involved with any of those men. Whoever dropped it at my house knew it wasn’t well known but wanted us to see it. Why?”
“I don’t give a shit why,” I snarled, standing up. I paced in front of the screen. “Maybe it was Charles himself, trying to get some sympathy before we come for him. It doesn’t matter. He loved her and still murdered her. He’s going down.”
“Evie.” Sebastian stood and came to me, wrapping his arms around me and fighting to keep me in place. “I know you’re angry, but we can’t go into this guns blazing. We need to think.”
