Page 24 of Shattering

"I have something you may want to have."

Then she turned and walked up the stairs.

Gray sat frozen.

Something about the way she said it sent an eerie sensation crawling down his spine.

He heard drawers open and close, then silence.

Upstairs, Cadi stood in the walk-in closet, staring blankly at the shelves before pulling out a stool. Her hands shook slightly as she climbed up and pulled down a dusty box from the highest shelf.

She sat on the stool, flipping through the old photo album with mechanical movements, barely processing the images—until she reached the page she was looking for.

Her fingers hesitated over the plastic sleeve before carefully sliding the picture out.

Then she went a little further, plucking another from deeper inside.

When she looked up, Gray was in the doorway.

His expression was guarded now, no longer angry, but wary.

"What is this?" His voice was quieter than before, as if he were trying not to startle a wild animal.

Cadi stood, crossing the room, the photos pressed between her fingers.

"I saved them from your mom's attic after her funeral. I know you wanted to throw them away...but I thought you may want to keep this ."she sighed before she straightened her spine .

"While you're on your crusade for justice," she said, her voice unreadable, "you should take a close look at this."

She handed him the two photos.

Gray took it hesitantly, his fingers stiff.

He had never seen this picture before. It took him a minute to recognise the faces. Of a life he would like to pretend never happened.

His stomach twisted the moment he saw it.

His mother—young, barely in her twenties—holding a small boy of about two in her arms. The same stiff, guarded smile. The same wary tension in her eyes. The boy was pale, grumpy, with bright blond hair.

Gray stared at it, his throat tightening.

It was him.

He flipped to the second photo.

His hands tensed.

The first day of school.

His mother had insisted on taking a picture at the end of the day. Cadi was there, holding his hand, grinning with her messy auburn curls. An arrow of pain pierced his heart ,looking at her young beloved face. Ana had squeezed in next to her, making a face. Gray himself stood stiffly beside them, his expression sullen, his brown school shoes scuffed, his darker blond hair catching the light.

A strand of cold slipped down his spine.

Gray swallowed hard and forced himself to glance back at the first picture.

The small boy.

The blond hair ,slowly darkening to brown.

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