Book 1 - The Boy in the Yearbook: The Photograph - Chapter 5 - The Blackwood Connection

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The bell stopped ringing.

No one in Professor Ashcroft's classroom moved.

For a few seconds, Clara could hear nothing except the rain against the windows and the faint hum of the lights overhead.

Adrian was still staring at the doorway.

Noah: "You said that bell hasn't worked since 1987."

Adrian: "It hasn't."

Maya: "Then what exactly did we just hear?"

Adrian didn't answer.

Clara looked down at the photograph.

The words were still there.

CLARA... FIND... ME.

She turned toward Adrian.

Clara: "You said your father had another photograph."

Adrian's jaw tightened.

Adrian: "Yes."

Clara: "Of Elliot."

Adrian: "Yes."

Clara: "Then show me."

He looked at her.

Adrian: "No."

Clara blinked.

Clara: "Why?"

Adrian: "Because my father specifically told me never to show it to anyone."

Noah: "Your father also apparently knew a boy the school erased from history."

Adrian: "I know."

Noah: "And you're still protecting him?"

Adrian turned toward Noah.

Adrian: "You don't know my father."

Noah: "Then help us understand him."

Adrian said nothing.

Clara stepped between them.

Clara: "Please."

Adrian looked at her.

Something changed in his expression.

He looked tired.

Not annoyed.

Not angry.

Just tired.

Adrian: "Fine."

He reached into his jacket and pulled out his phone.

Adrian: "But we're not doing this here."

They met after school at the Blackwood house.

Clara had been there hundreds of times.

Her family had lived in the house for generations, although she had always hated how formal it felt.

Dark wood.

Tall windows.

Portraits of dead relatives.

Rooms nobody used.

A library filled with books that seemed older than the house itself.

Tonight, however, the house felt different.

Adrian led Clara, Noah, Maya, and Elena through a narrow hallway.

Maya: "Why are we all whispering?"

Noah: "Because this house makes me feel like someone is listening."

Maya: "Someone probably is."

Noah stopped.

Noah: "That wasn't funny."

Maya: "I wasn't joking."

Clara looked toward the staircase.

She had lived here long enough to know every room.

But Adrian wasn't taking them upstairs.

He was heading toward the old study.

Clara stopped.

Clara: "Your father's study?"

Adrian nodded.

Adrian: "He hasn't used it in years."

Elena: "Does he still live here?"

Adrian hesitated.

Adrian: "Sometimes."

He unlocked the door.

The room smelled like dust, leather, and old paper.

A large desk stood in front of the windows.

Books covered the walls.

There were framed photographs everywhere.

Family photographs.

Graduations.

Weddings.

Holidays.

Blackwood family portraits.

Clara walked toward one wall.

She stopped.

A photograph showed her father as a teenager.

Beside him stood a younger man.

Adrian came to stand beside her.

Adrian: "That's my father."

Clara stared.

She had met Adrian's father only a handful of times.

He had always been distant.

Cold.

But there was something strange about the photograph.

Her father and Adrian's father weren't smiling.

They were standing beside someone else.

A third person had been scratched out.

Clara: "Who was between them?"

Adrian's expression tightened.

Adrian: "Elliot."

Clara turned.

Clara: "What?"

Adrian pointed at the damaged photograph.

Adrian: "That's why my father kept it."

Maya stepped closer.

Maya: "Someone deliberately scratched him out."

Adrian: "My father did."

Clara stared at him.

Clara: "Why?"

Adrian: "I don't know."

He walked toward the desk.

There was an old wooden box sitting on top.

He opened it.

Inside were letters.

Photographs.

Newspaper clippings.

And a silver school ring.

Clara immediately recognized it.

The Blackwood Academy crest.

Her hand hovered over it.

Clara: "That's Elliot's."

Adrian nodded.

Adrian: "I think so."

Noah: "You think?"

Adrian: "I was twelve when I found the box."

He picked up one of the photographs.

Adrian: "I didn't know who Elliot was."

He handed it to Clara.

It showed three teenage boys standing outside Blackwood Academy.

One was Elliot.

One was Adrian's father.

And the third—

Clara's breath caught.

Clara: "That's my father."

Adrian nodded.

Adrian: "They were friends."

Clara stared at the photograph.

She had never seen her father looking that young.

Or that happy.

She looked at Elliot.

Then at her father.

Then at Adrian's father.

Three boys.

One disappeared.

Two remained.

And both families had spent decades pretending nothing had happened.

Clara: "Why didn't our parents tell us?"

Adrian's voice was quiet.

Adrian: "Because whatever happened that night destroyed their friendship."

Elena took one of the letters.

Elena: "There's a date."

She turned it over.

Elena: "October 13, 1987."

The day before Elliot disappeared.

Maya opened the envelope.

Inside was a handwritten note.

She read it aloud.

Maya: "Meet me at the east wing after the final bell. Come alone."

She looked up.

Maya: "That's all."

Noah looked at Adrian.

Noah: "Who wrote it?"

Adrian shook his head.

Adrian: "I don't know."

Clara examined the handwriting.

Something about it looked familiar.

She pulled the photograph from her pocket.

The one from the school.

She compared the writing.

Her heart stopped.

Clara: "It's the same."

Everyone moved closer.

Clara: "The handwriting on the photograph."

Maya compared them.

Maya: "She's right."

Noah looked at Adrian.

Noah: "Whoever wrote this note also wrote the message to Clara."

Adrian took the note.

His eyes narrowed.

Adrian: "Then we need to find out who wrote it."

A sound came from the hallway.

Everyone froze.

Footsteps.

Slow.

Someone was walking toward the study.

Adrian quickly closed the box.

Clara: "Who's there?"

No answer.

The doorknob turned.

Adrian stepped in front of Clara.

The door opened.

Nobody was there.

The hallway was empty.

Noah walked outside.

Noah: "There's no one here."

Maya looked toward the floor.

Maya: "Actually..."

A small envelope lay beneath the door.

Clara picked it up.

Her name was written across the front.

CLARA BLACKWOOD.

She opened it.

Inside was a single photograph.

Her father.

Adrian's father.

Elliot.

And Professor Evelyn Ashcroft.

All four stood outside Blackwood Academy.

Clara turned the photograph over.

Her heart dropped.

Written on the back:

FOUR PEOPLE KNEW THE TRUTH.

Beneath it:

ONE OF THEM DISAPPEARED.

Then a final sentence.

ONE OF THEM IS STILL LYING.

Nobody spoke.

Clara looked at Adrian.

Clara: "Your father."

Adrian looked at the photograph.

Adrian: "Maybe."

Clara: "And my father."

Adrian: "Maybe."

Maya: "And Professor Ashcroft."

Elena remained silent.

Clara noticed.

Clara: "Elena?"

Elena looked at her.

Her face had gone pale.

Clara: "You know something."

Elena looked down.

Elena: "My grandmother knew Elliot."

The room went silent again.

Noah: "What?"

Elena swallowed.

Elena: "She worked at Blackwood Academy in 1987."

Clara stepped closer.

Clara: "What did she tell you?"

Elena's eyes moved to the photograph.

Elena: "She told me never to trust the people who say Elliot disappeared."

Clara frowned.

Clara: "What does that mean?"

Elena slowly looked at her.

Elena: "Because she said Elliot didn't disappear."

Adrian's face hardened.

Adrian: "Then where did he go?"

Elena shook her head.

Elena: "She never told me."

Clara looked at the photograph again.

Five people knew something.

Her father.

Adrian's father.

Professor Ashcroft.

Elena's grandmother.

And Elliot.

One of them was gone.

One was dead.

And the others had spent nearly forty years keeping the same secret.

Then Clara noticed something in the photograph.

Elliot wasn't looking at the camera.

He was looking behind it.

At someone.

Clara turned the photograph upside down.

Behind the group was one of Blackwood Academy's windows.

A reflection appeared in the glass.

A girl.

Young.

Standing alone.

Clara's blood ran cold.

She recognized her.

Professor Evelyn Ashcroft.

But that wasn't what frightened her.

It was the person standing beside her.

A young girl with long dark hair.

Wearing the same silver pendant Clara had seen around Evelyn's neck.

Clara whispered:

Clara: "Who is that?"

Adrian leaned closer.

His expression changed.

Adrian: "I don't know."

Clara looked at the girl's face.

Something about her seemed familiar.

Too familiar.

Then she saw the name written faintly beneath the photograph.

A name almost completely scratched away.

Only two letters remained.

V...E.

Elena stepped backward.

Elena: "No."

Clara turned toward her.

Clara: "What?"

Elena's eyes were fixed on the photograph.

Elena: "That can't be."

Maya: "What can't be?"

Elena pointed to the scratched-out name.

Her voice trembled.

Elena: "That's my grandmother."

The room fell silent.

And somewhere upstairs, a door slowly opened.

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