Page 9 of Tainted Rose

Scarlett

An hour later, we are dusty, dirty, and tired—and we haven’t found a damn thing except Mom’s diploma, a few old notebooks, and a piece of pottery she must have made in an art class exactly like the one Daphne and I are taking right now.

“What about that box?” Max points to one on the floor near my feet under an old lamp and a kitchen mixer.

I tap the one in question with the toe of my shoe. “This one? I don’t think we’ve looked in there yet. Help me with the stuff on top?”

Daphne shifts the lamp on top of another box while Max lifts the heavy mixer and sets it on the floor. I pry the lid off of the big plastic container. One glance has my heart leaping into my throat. “Bingo,” I whisper.

I drop to my knees, heedless of the dirt and oil on the garage floor. I inhale and hold my breath as I scan the contents of the box. Finally, I let out the air in a concentrated, steady stream. I reach inside, grasping two books, then hand them off to Daphne and lift out two more. My hands shake.

“My heart is about to beat out of my chest. And I might vomit.” I hadn’t realized I would be this affected, but I’m seriously nervous now that we’ve found them.

Max helps me to my feet. “Do you feel up to looking through them today, or would you rather wait and do it later?”

I give a chuckle when I see Daphne give Max an appalled look. “It’s okay. I really think I need to power through. Let’s go sit at the kitchen table with these and see what we can find.”

We take the books back into the house with us, and I feel like we’re on the cusp of finding something meaningful. “Anyone else wondering if we’ll find more than I bargained for?”

“After all that, I sure as hell hope so.” Max gives a short laugh.

We each take a book, scanning through the pages. Daphne murmurs, “People had some weird hairdos back then, that’s for sure. Check out those bangs.”

Max snickers. “Maybe, but some of these clothing styles have already come back.” He shakes his head and continues flipping through pages.

Daphne looks up. “You’ve got her senior yearbook, right, Scarlett? That one’s going to be the most useful one.”

I nod, distracted. Something has definitely caught my attention. I’d found my mom’s senior photo right away, but that hadn’t told me much of anything, so I’d kept flipping through to get an idea of who else was in her class. With a tap of my finger to the page, I cautiously say, “This must be Aria’s aunt.”

Max’s eyes raise to catch mine. “What’s her name?”

“Christina Warrington. My aunt made me tell her how my phone ended up in the hot tub, and when I mentioned Aria, she said that Aria’s aunt had been in the same graduating class as my mom.” I flip to the index at the back of the book where they list each person by name with corresponding page numbers. After a little searching, I discover that Aunt Liz was correct; Christina had been the head cheerleader. There are photos of her on the pages with all the cheerleaders, and she’s in a bunch on the football team’s pages, too. Hmm. “Go figure. Another head cheer bitch. I guess Aria followed in her aunt’s footsteps.” I show them the pages before looking back at the index again.

“Hey, what about homecoming or prom pics of your mom? Are those in there?” Daphne’s eyes brighten in anticipation.

I flip to the appropriate section. “Yes to homecoming. My mom is only in a group photo. I can’t tell if she was there with a date. Looks like Christina was on the homecoming court.”

Max glances at her photo. “She’s cute.” He snorts. “Her date is cuter. Who is that?”

I shrug. “Mike Staunton? Never heard of him.”

“No prom pics?” Daphne questions.

“Well, there are. But they’re from the previous year, and I don’t recognize anyone. This is one of those events that’s so late in the year, it ends up in the following year’s yearbook.”

“Which means—” Max furrows his brow.

“We need the book from the year after graduation, too. I don’t know if the prom pics will help at all, though, because your mom was already pregnant by then. Do you think she’d have gone?” Daphne grits her teeth together and shakes her head. “I wouldn’t have. Either way, library for the win. I’ll see if I can find that yearbook tomorrow.”

Max points to a photo he’s been looking at. “Uh. Sorry to bring this up but I found Xander’s stepdad, too.” He juts his chin toward my book. “Take a look under Coventry. He should be in there.”

When I find his senior photo, I look carefully at it. “I had no idea he was so much younger than Isabella. I’m pretty sure Xander told me she’s forty-three. If he’s my mom’s age, that makes him around thirty-four. Maybe thirty-five.”

Max hoots. “Shit, talk about robbing the cradle. Isabella is gorgeous though, so I can’t blame Sebastian for falling for her. Xander definitely gets his good looks from—” He stops mid-thought, sliding me an apologetic look. “Sorry.”

I shrug. “You can talk about him. I’m going to have to get used to it. Wait until tomorrow when I’m freaking stuck sitting in front of him in class first thing. That’ll be fun.”

“Fair point, I guess. I didn’t mean to rub him in your face, though.”

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