"I saw the paper." I moved closer to his desk, my hands shaking. "In your photo. My paper. In the corner of the frame. Was that an accident? Or were you trying to tell me something?"
A hush settled where words should have been. Into my gaze those blue eyes held fast - exactly as they'd stayed etched, untouched by years.
"Because if it was an accident, tell me now. Tell me I'm reading too much into it and I'll leave. I'll go back to Professor Carter's boring lectures and my fake dates and pretending you're just some professor I used to have. But if it wasn't an accident..." I stopped, my voice breaking. "If it means something, I need you to tell me. I need to know I'm not insane."
Fog clung close, thick with silence between us.
"It wasn't an accident." His voice was rough, barely above a whisper. "I must have taken that photo five times trying to get the angle right so your name would show."
Wind knocked out, I whispered what for?
