The Four Boys at the Restaurant Sink
“How?”
“A photograph.”
Kelsey frowned.
“What photograph?”
“Of you.
On a park bench, with a small boy standing beside your knees.”
Her face lost all its color.
“That’s impossible.”
“How?”
“A photograph.”
Kelsey frowned.
“What photograph?”
“Of you.
On a park bench, with a small boy standing beside your knees.”
Her face lost all its color.
“That’s impossible.”