When the door closed, the noise outside became distant.
Richard remained standing.
“I wasn’t completely honest with you.”
Emily crossed her arms.
“About what?”
“The reason I went to the restaurant this morning.”
He looked at me.
“I wasn’t only investigating your firing.”
I waited.
Richard removed an envelope from inside his jacket.
My name was on it.
Not printed.
Handwritten.
My stomach tightened.
“Where did you get that?”
“From Greg’s office.”
The room seemed to become colder.
“Why was there an envelope with my name in his office?”
“That is the question.”
I took it.
The handwriting was unfamiliar.
Inside was a photograph.
I looked at it.
Then forgot how to breathe.It was me.
Younger.
Maybe twenty-one.
Standing outside a community college.
My hair was longer.
I was carrying a backpack.
The photo had been taken from a distance.
I turned it over.
A date had been written on the back.
