Another Photograph
When Edith picked it up with care, a wave of confusion washed over her. It was an old photograph of her husband, one she had never seen before. But what truly perplexed her wasn’t just the unfamiliarity of the image—it was the subtle clue hidden within it. In that moment, she understood why Harold had buried the photograph so deeply at the bottom of the pile.
Another Photograph
The Blonde Little Girl
Edith’s heart raced as her eyes fixed on the photograph. Harold was in it, grinning from ear to ear, his hand clasping that of a little girl. But the girl wasn’t their daughter, Heather. This was a blonde-haired child Edith had never seen before. A chill ran down her spine as she flipped the photo over. There was writing on the back. Her breath caught in her throat.
The Blonde Little Girl