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 a rented tuxedo.
Prom night.
Charlotte stared at it.
Then at me.
Then back at the photograph.
“No…”
Tears instantly filled her eyes.
“No way.”
I nodded.
“Hi, Charlotte.”
Her knees nearly gave out.
“Tyler?”
I laughed softly.
“Yeah.”
For several seconds she couldn’t speak.
She simply stared.
Trying to connect the teenager in the photograph to the
