“Hilary,” he said softly, stepping over the broken glass. “Wait. I’m sorry. That came out wrong.”
I backed away from him, my hands trembling. “Wrong? You looked at a photo from my grandmother’s high school album, saw your face in it, and made a joke?”
“It is not me.”
“Then who is it?” I demanded. My voice cracked before I could stop it. “Because I know your face, Tyler. I know it better than anyone’s.”
He looked down at the photo again, and something changed in his expression. The fear in my chest cooled just enough for me to notice it. He was not amused anymore. He looked almost sad.
“That’s my great-uncle,” he said. “Not my grandfather, actually. My grandpa’s older brother. His name is Alden.”
I stared at him. “Your great-uncle?”
Tyler nodded.
“Everyone says I look like him. My mom used to joke that I was born wearing his face.”
I sank into the nearest chair, but my body still felt unsteady. “And the caption?”
He turned the album toward himself and read it again. His lips parted slightly.
“I love you, and I will always find you, my Miss Harrison.”
For the first time since he walked in, Tyler looked shaken.
“I’ve heard that name,” he murmured.
“What name?”
“Miss Harrison.” He looked at me. “Alden never married. When I was little, I heard stories. He used to tell my grandpa that he had loved a girl once, back when they were young. He called her Miss Harrison.”
The room seemed to grow smaller around us.
“My grandma?” I whispered.
“I think so.”
Tyler sat across from me and told me what he knew.
Alden had left after graduation to study abroad. He had planned to write, to come back, and to keep his promise somehow, but life had not waited for him.
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