Tyrese
“What?” I looked over to them confused, folding my arms over my chest.
“Come,” My mother waved her hand, encouraging me to follow her into the dining room. I watched as she pulled an old photo album out of the cabinet, then flipped through a few pages. As she stopped on one, she looked it over slowly then turned the book to my hands. I stared down at the image, I saw a younger version of myself smiling a toothy grin with my arms wrapped around a blonde-haired girl with beautiful green eyes.
“What is this?” I stared at the photo in awe, immediately recognizing the younger version of the girl in my arms. “I don’t remember this,” I looked up at my mom. She looked at me, her eyes soft and gave me a sad smile.
“You met Malia at a camp a couple of weeks before this photo was taken.
