CHAPTER FOUR
THE MAN IN THE PHOTOGRAPH
That evening, the girls sat on the floor of Thelma's dorm room surrounded by food, textbooks, and open laptops.
For the first time all day, Gila felt normal.
Thelma was talking about one of her professors.
Gila wasn't listening.
She was staring at an old photograph.
It had been sitting beneath a stack of papers on Thelma's desk.
“Who's that?”
Thelma looked over.
“What?”
Gila held up the photograph.
Thelma took it from her.
“Oh.”
She studied it.
“I don't know.”
“You don't?”
“My father has thousands of old photographs.”
Gila looked closer.
There were five men standing outside what appeared to be an old building.
One of them was Rymus.
He looked younger.
Much younger.
Beside him stood another man.
Gila's eyes stopped.
Something about the man felt familiar.
“Who's he?”
Thelma shook her head.
“I've never seen him before.”
Gila took the photograph again.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
She turned it over.
Nothing.
No date.
No names.
Only a faded handwritten mark.
A.W.
Gila's heart skipped.
Austin Woods.
She looked at Thelma.
“Your family is from Austin Woods.”
Thelma nodded.
“So is mine.”
They both became quiet.
Neither had ever told the other.
Not because they wanted to lie.
It simply hadn't come up.
“How long did your family live there?” Gila asked.
“My father has been there most of his life.”
Gila swallowed.
“My family too.”
Thelma smiled.
“Maybe that's why we get along.”
“Maybe.”
Gila looked at the photograph again.
The man beside Rymus continued to bother her.
She couldn't explain why.
She had never seen him.
Yet somehow...
She felt as if she had.
“Can I keep this?”
Thelma looked surprised.
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
She handed it over.
“Fine.”
Gila slipped it into her notebook.
Neither girl noticed the small piece of paper that had fallen from the photograph.
It landed beneath the desk.
Thelma continued talking.
Gila continued listening.
And neither noticed that the handwritten initials on the photograph were not the only clue.
Underneath the desk...
The paper contained a name.
David Karson.
Across the city, Rymus sat in the back of his office.
The room was quiet.
His most trusted men stood nearby.
One of them placed a file on the desk.
“Everything you asked for.”
Rymus opened it.
He scanned the first page.
Then the second.
Then the third.
His expression remained emotionless.
“Stanford.”
“Yes.”
“My daughter.”
“Yes.”
“Kelvin.”
The man hesitated.
“Yes.”
Rymus looked up.
“Why is he there?”
“We don't know.”
Rymus closed the file.
“Find out.”
The man nodded.
“And the girl?”
“What girl?”
“The one who was with your daughter.”
Rymus thought for a moment.
“Gila.”
“Yes.”
Rymus leaned back.
“She seems harmless.”
The man remained silent.
Rymus looked toward the window.
For reasons he couldn't explain, the young woman's face had stayed in his mind since their brief encounter.
There had been something familiar about her.
Something he couldn't place.
But familiarity wasn't evidence.
And Rymus trusted evidence.
“Watch my daughter,” he said.
“Don't touch her.”
“And the girl?”
Rymus paused.
“Watch her too.”
The man nodded.
Rymus looked back at the file.
Then he saw the photograph.
His expression changed.
The photograph showed five men outside an old building in Austin Woods.
And one name appeared beneath it.
David Karson.
Rymus stared at the name.
His fingers tightened around the paper.
For twenty years, he had believed David Karson's daughter was dead.
He had seen the reports.
He had heard the story.
He had believed it.
But now...
For the first time...
A question entered his mind.
What if the reports were wrong?
He closed the file.
“Find everything about Gila.”
The man looked surprised.
“Everything?”
“Everything.”
Rymus stared toward the city lights.
He didn't know why.
He didn't know what he was looking for.
But somewhere deep inside him...
A buried memory had begun to wake.