Chapter 3 – The Photo

After school, the house was quiet. Too quiet.

Mom was still at work, and the only sound was the soft hum of the fridge and the occasional creak of the old floorboards — like the house had secrets of its own.

I dropped my bag by the stairs and headed straight to my room. But something stopped me.

The door to the guest room was slightly open. It used to be Dad's office before everything… fell apart. Now, it was just a place where we dumped unpacked boxes and things we didn't want to deal with.

I didn't mean to go inside. I was just looking.

That's what I told myself, anyway.

Dust clung to the air as I stepped in, sunlight catching on the edges of cardboard boxes and forgotten memories. I pulled one of the boxes closer, curious. It was labeled "Family – Old Stuff" in Mom's handwriting.

At the top, a stack of photo albums. I flipped through one absentmindedly, pages filled with pictures from before everything changed. Before Dad left. Before the truth became something we didn't talk about.

Then I saw it.

A small, slightly faded photo tucked between two pages like someone tried to hide it. It was of two teenagers — a girl and a boy. The girl looked exactly like my mom, younger, with the same dark hair and stubborn smile. And the boy…

I froze👀.

I'd seen that face before.

The sharp jaw. The intense eyes. The same crooked grin I saw just a few hours ago in the hallway at school.

Jace.

No — not Jace.

It couldn't be.

This boy looked older, like maybe nineteen or twenty.

I flipped the photo over. Written in blue ink:

"Me & Tyler – Senior Year"

Tyler.

Jace's dad.

I didn't know how I knew that. Maybe something Layla had said. Maybe I'd seen his name online. But I knew.

My mom knew Jace's dad. And she never said a word.

That night at dinner, I tried to act normal. Mom talked about her day, bills, and how she still couldn't get the hot water to work right.

But all I could think about was the photo sitting in my room.

When I finally asked, casually, "Hey… did you ever know someone named Tyler Carter?" she froze.

It was a second — not even that long — but I saw it. The flicker of panic in her eyes. The way her grip tightened on her fork.

She forced a smile. "No. Doesn't ring a bell. Why?"

I shrugged. "Just something I heard at school."

She nodded and changed the subject.

But I wasn't fooled.

She lied.

And suddenly, I wasn't just curious about Jace anymore.

I was connected to him.

Somehow, our pasts were tangled — and I had a feeling that photo was only the beginning.