my God…” she whispered. “What is this?”
I smiled.
“It’s the reason I asked you to come back.”
She looked nervous.
Very nervous.
“Sir, if this is about the order, I can explain—”
“It’s not.”
I walked to a bookshelf and picked up a framed photograph.
Then I handed it to her.
The moment she saw it, her face changed.
Her hand flew to her mouth.
The picture showed two teenagers standing awkwardly in a high school gym.
A smiling cheerleader in a blue dress.
And an overweight boy in
