“I know.”
“How do you know it’s me?”
“Because your name was written on the back. Amelia, balloon toss winner.”
I flipped it over.
There it was.
My name in an old woman’s handwriting.
Ethan reached for another box.
“At first, I was just digitizing the archive. Then I kept seeing you. Not because I was looking for you. Because my grandmother labeled everything. Your school won a county art show. Your mother chaired a charity auction. Your father sponsored a summer fair. You were in the background of half the public events she covered.”
Victor scoffed. “And naturally, you pinned her entire life to a wall.”
Ethan ignored him.
“I thought it was a coincidence. Then I found this.”
He pointed to a large map on the wall. Red circles marked different places.
“This is the county fair from 2001. You were here.”
He touched one circle.
“I was here.”
He touched another.
“Just 20 feet away.”
I stared at the map.
“Ethan…”
“We didn’t meet. We were kids. It meant nothing then. But when I kept finding photos like that, I started making a timeline. Not of you. Of the crossings.”
He pointed to another section.
“Your college graduation. My grandmother was there photographing a scholarship recipient from our town. I’m in the background delivering flowers for my aunt’s stand.”
I stepped closer.
There he was.
Younger, thinner, standing near a truck full of flowers while I crossed the lawn in a cap and gown.
I had never seen him.
He had never seen me.
At least not then.
Victor’s voice cut through the room.
“Do you hear yourself? You expect her to find this romantic?”
“No,” Ethan said. “I expected it to look terrible if I explained badly. Which is why I kept putting off showing her.”
“Until after she married you,” Victor said.
That landed.
I looked at Ethan.
His face crumpled slightly.
“I planned to show you tonight because this archive belongs to the family. And now you’re my family. I wanted to show you Rose’s work, then the timeline. I should have shown you before. I know that.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because every time I imagined opening that door, I imagined that look on your face.”
The room went quiet.
Because I knew exactly which look he meant.
The one I was wearing.
Victor moved beside me. “Amelia, listen to yourself. He had years of your life in here.”
Ethan turned to him.
“And you knew exactly what it was when you came here last month.”
Victor’s expression sharpened.
Last month?
I looked at him. “You were here last month?”
Victor didn’t answer.
Ethan did.
“He came to the farm while I was fixing the south fence. Said he wanted to make peace before the wedding. I came back and found the shed door open.”
Victor smiled. “You should lock your secrets better.”
“You saw the labels. You saw the archive boxes. You saw Rose’s journals. You knew I hadn’t taken those photos.”
“And I knew exactly what this room would look like if she saw it without hearing the story.”
His words fell like a confession.
I stared at him.
“You wanted me to think he was stalking me.”
Victor’s face remained calm, but his eyes changed.
“I wanted you to ask whether you’d made a mistake.”
“You followed us here.”
“I wanted to be nearby in case you needed help.”
“No,” I said. “You wanted to watch.”
For the first time, he looked embarrassed.
Ethan opened the center drawer of the desk.
