Yes, I remember those parts of our sessions.
“Well, I had a choice to make when I found that. Could I use it to help you? Or did I give it to people who would eventually use it in a way that would set you back?”
What Doc is telling me is unbelievable. No one has ever done something so selfless for me.
“You needed the pen and the letter to heal. Just as Cupid revived Psyche with a kiss, he revived you with words. Every single word he wrote in that letter helped me to help you. He reached you, even though he wasn’t here.”
I tremble as I touch the paper in my lap, remembering how broken I’d felt when I first read those words, but now...now it felt like—
“He saved you after all,” Doc spoke softly, finishing my thought.
I put my head on Doc’s shoulder and whisper the only words I can manage. “Thank you.”
I sit in the front of Doc’s black SUV and buckle my seat belt as we pull away from Pine Groves. I feel a sense of freedom washing over me as the air rushes in through the windows.
Finally, I’m free.
Doc is driving me to the camera store and then we will head to my house. On his back seat is the one bag I’d had dropped off for the past thirty days, and in my hand I hold the letters he’d given me in my room. The only mystery left is inside the pen in my pocket.
He pulls the car up to the front of the store, and I jump out. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”
“Take your time. I have my book.”
He nods at me, trusting me, and though I hate deceiving him, I need to know what’s on that negative. I pull open the door and make my way to the front desk. A woman with jet-black hair and eyeliner to match approaches me and smiles.
“Hi. How can I help you?”
I take the pen from my pocket and unscrew it. Looking over my shoulder, I check to see that no one’s around before tipping it upside down on the counter.
“Oh cool!” she says as the negative falls out.
“Right?”
“Yeah, very double agent.” She laughs, and I see the flash of a tongue ring.
“Can you develop it?” I ask.
I want to know what’s on the negative, but I’m also terrified to find out.
“I can. It’ll take a few minutes.”
“That’s fine. Oh, and can I also get a copy of this?”
I place the old photo I’ve had on my wall down on the counter.
She picks up both objects and tells me yes and then walks out to a back room.
I go and sit on one of the chairs against the wall and start to bite my nail.
Nervous habit?
Oh God. I can hear him in my head, see him in my mind, and with the negative and his letter in my possession, I have more hope than I’ve ever had before. I pull out the small note he’d sent to Doc with the pen.
It wasn’t good, and it wasn’t evil—it was just love. She deserves love. Make her understand. Take care of her, Doc.
Where was he when he wrote this? I need to know.
Grayson’s right.
What we had was as simple and as complicated as love could be. We were two people who were perfectly suited and met at exactly the wrong time.
“Hey there.”
I look over to where the girl has come back out behind the counter. Jumping to my feet, I rush over and notice she is frowning at me.
“Here’s your copy,” she tells me and hands me the reproduced photograph of Cupid and Psyche. She then pushes the second photo over to me—the photo from the negative.
“This is what appeared from the negative. It’s a photo of the same sculpture you have there, but whoever took it didn’t get out of the light. There’s a shadow on the side and there are also some numbers scratched into the film. If you ask me, this other copy is so much better. The quality and so on.”
I pick up the photo and hold it up.
There, right in front of me, is Grayson.
Oh, he’d been clever. All you could see was his shadow on the wall behind the sculpture, but I knew it was him. He was okay. Then I saw the numbers down in the corner, but they were tiny.
“Can I have this one blown up?”
The girl shrugs.
“Sure.”
When she comes back with the enlarged copy, I grab it with eager hands. I study the numbers this time; there are six of them. I read them over and over. What are they?
“Okay, that’s nineteen dollars and sixty-two cents.”
I give her the only credit card I own and then begin to fold the photo so I can push it into my pocket. The look of horror on her face almost makes me laugh. I didn’t want to frame this picture, I wanted to work it out.
This is yet another clue in this puzzle.
I run back out to the car and hop inside.
“Get it?”
I nod and pull out the copy to show him. All the while the six numbers are running through my head.
Doc pulls out of the lot and begins the drive to my house. When we pull up, I notice my mom’s car is gone.
Nice, she isn’t even here to welcome me home.
I unbuckle my seat belt and reach back to grab my bag. I push open the door and look back at Doc, realizing that he is the only person that knows the answer to the one question that remains.
“Doc?”
“Yes, Addy?”
“Where did the pen and note come from?”
He gives me a slight smile and finally tells me.
“France. The return address was a nonexistent one in France. I checked it out.”
France?
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Grayson loves Europe. It makes sense that he would go back. Why did I think that photo had been taken anywhere else?
But where in France? Where is that sculpture on display?
Now I have a new direction to look in.
“So, will I see you on Wednesday for our session?” Doc asks.
I purposely evade the question and give him a bright smile. “Thanks, Doc. For everything.”
He knows me though, and even as his eyes narrow, I see the side of his mouth twitch.
“Of course, Addy. Keep my number, you hear me?”
I feel an ache in my heart as I think about what I want. If I do this, I don’t know when I’ll see Doc again.
Unable to find the words to tell this man what he means to me, I lean across the car and kiss his cheek. “Stay happy.”
He brushes a hand over my hair and replies, “You too.”
Once I’m back inside my home, I sprint up to my room and boot up my laptop. As I wait, I pull out the photo and run my fingers over the shadow—Grayson.
His arms are bent and it’s clear he’s holding the camera. I wish I could see him. But at least I have this, which is more than I had yesterday, or the day before that. I also have these numbers...
My computer beeps, indicating it’s ready, and when I look up, I see it. At the top of the monitor is the date—made up of six numbers.
Snatching up the photo, I read the digits again and feel my pulse speed up.
It’s a date! That’s what’s on the photo he’s given me...a future date.
I open the Internet and the first thing I type in is, Psyche Revived by Cupid’s Kiss. I hit enter and sit back, waiting.
I can barely breathe as I wait for the page to load the results, and then…there it is. The first entry is exactly what I’ve been hoping for.
A closer look at Psyche Revived by Cupid’s Kiss at the Musée du Louvre.
The Louvre—Paris, France.
I look back at the photo beside my keyboard, and instantly I know. This is exactly what Grayson is telling me.