Sean lifted one of his boxes onto his desk and began digging through it. The box held external storage drives, each drive with a date written on it in Sharpie. Sean smiled. “I’m a pack rat when it comes to pictures.”

“You took pictures for the yearbook, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you a professional photographer now?”

Sean held up one of the drives and squinted to read the date on it. “Oh, God, no. I’m a computer coder. I wrote an algorithm that tracks buying habits.” He looked up from his box and smiled at Lila. “Bought this house with the money Amazon paid me for it.”

“It’s beautiful,” Lila said.

Lila slipped his senior picture out of her pocket and held it out.

“Holy crap!” His face lit up with a smile. “You still have that?” She turned it over so he could read the inscription, and his smile fell away. “Yeah, I was a bit of an asshole back then.”

“What did you mean by ‘Every dog has its day?’”

“I wrote that on all my pictures.” He gave a self-conscious shrug. “I know what people thought of me—the annoying twerp with bad social skills. But I never saw myself that way, and I wanted to prove you all wrong, stroll into my ten-year reunion like a boss. That’s all.”

Lila dropped her head a touch. “I’m sorry for my part in all that. I wasn’t a very good friend back then.”

“Don’t worry about it.” His smile returned, and he handed the picture back to Lila. “I found a woman who…Well, she’s everything to me. I got two great kids, and at the end of the day, I don’t really care anymore what you guys think— No offense.”

“None taken.”

He returned to his search and soon held up an external drive about the size of a cell phone. “I think this is it.” He attached the drive to a cable on his desk and opened a file to show a picture from the party, although not the picture of John and Lila.

“May I?” Lila asked, and Sean slid the mouse to her.

She clicked through the pictures slowly, looking at each one carefully. Three pictures in, she came to the one of John holding her wrist. She moved on, slowly, until she came to a picture of a boy shotgunning a beer. He had his head tipped back, and his face was mostly covered by the beer can, but Lila could see enough to know that it was Silas Jackson.

Lila inhaled sharply. “Do you know that guy?” she asked.

Sean looked closer and shook his head. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen him before.”

“Can you email me a copy of this one?”

“No problem.”