Chapter 3: The Photograph on the Wall
Maya didn't move.
Outside, the afternoon sun shone brightly across the broken porch. A delivery truck rumbled somewhere down the street, and birds chirped from a telephone wire above the house.
Everything looked ordinary.
Nothing inside Maya felt ordinary anymore.
“What do you mean, my mother told you?”” she asked.
Eli glanced at Nia and Jordan.
The younger children had stopped eating. Nia held Jordan's hand, while he stared at Maya with wide, uncertain eyes.
Eli rubbed his palms against his trousers.
“I shouldn't have said that.””
“You already did.””
“I know.””
“Then explain it.””
“I can't.””
Maya stared at him in disbelief.
“You can't, or you won't?””
Eli's expression tightened.
“Both.””
She felt frustration rise through her fear.
“You know my name. You have something with my face on it. You say my mother knows about this place, and then you tell me you can't explain?””
Eli looked away.
“I'm sorry.””
“Stop saying you're sorry!””
Her voice echoed through the empty house.
Jordan startled.
Maya immediately lowered her voice.
“Sorry,” she whispered to him.
“I didn't mean to scare you.””
Jordan shook his head.
“You sound like my sister when she can't find her shoes.””
Nia gave him a disapproving look.
“Jordan.””
“What? She does.””
For a second, Maya nearly laughed. The normality of the child's comment was almost unbearable.
Then she looked at Eli again.
“Please,” she said.
“I need to understand.””
He studied her face.
“You really don't remember?””
“Remember what?””
“The house.””
Maya glanced at the cracked walls.
“I've never been here.””
“You're sure?””
“Of course I'm sure! I'm ten, Eli. I would remember living in a place like this.””
He flinched at the sharpness in her voice.
Maya immediately regretted it.
She took a breath.
“I'm not trying to be mean. I'm confused.””
Eli nodded slowly.
“That's what your mother said you would be.””
Maya felt a chill despite the warm sunlight.
“What else did she say?””
Eli's lips parted.
Then he glanced toward the photograph.
“I can't tell you everything.””
“Why not?””
“Because I promised.””
“To my mother?””
He nodded.
“When did you meet her?””
Eli's eyes dropped to the floor.
“Long ago.””
“That doesn't make sense. You're eleven.””
“I know how old I am.””
“Then how could you have known my mother for a long time?””
“I didn't say I knew her for my whole life.””
Maya folded her arms.
“You're not answering me.””
“Because I don't know which answer I'm allowed to give.””
The words were so strange that Maya forgot her anger.
“Allowed by whom?””
Eli didn't reply.
Nia shifted on the cardboard box.
“Eli, I think you should show her.””
He shook his head.
“No.””
“But she found it already.””
“Not all of it.””
Nia looked at Maya.
“It's not fair to make her guess.””
Eli crouched in front of the girl.
“It's not fair to put her in the middle of something she doesn't understand.””
“She already is in the middle,” Nia whispered.
Eli went still.
Maya looked from one child to the other.
“What does that mean?””
Neither answered.
She took a slow breath and pointed toward the wall.
“Can I see the photograph now?””
Eli remained motionless.
Then Jordan spoke.
“It's a little girl.””
Maya looked at him.
“Who?””
“The girl in the picture.””
“Do you know her?””
Jordan nodded.
“Eli said she was important.””
Eli rubbed a hand over his face.
“Jordan, please.””
“But you did!””
“I know.””
“And you said her mommy was nice.””
Eli's expression crumpled for a fraction of a second before he forced it back into place.
Maya's heart hammered.
“My mother was here?””
Eli didn't answer.
“Eli.””
He slowly stepped away from the wall.
“Look at it,” he whispered.
Maya approached the photograph.
Her shoes crunched over tiny pieces of plaster. The closer she came, the more details emerged: the cracked wall, the rusted pin, the yellowing edges of the paper.
The photograph showed a little girl standing beside a wooden fence, wearing a pale dress and white shoes.
The image was old, its colors faded by years of sunlight.
But the girl's face was clear.
Maya stopped breathing.
The child had round cheeks, a small gap between her front teeth, and a distinctive little curl resting above her left eyebrow.
Maya knew that face.
Not because she remembered taking the photograph.
Because she had seen it in pictures at home.
Her mother kept a framed photograph of Maya's fifth birthday on the living room shelf. The little girl in this picture had the same smile, the same curl, and the same tiny scar near her chin.
It was her.
Maya reached toward the photograph, then hesitated.
“Is this a joke?””
Eli shook his head.
“I'm not joking.””
“Where did you get this?””
He swallowed.
“It was here when I found the house.””
“When?””
“A while ago.””
“Who put it here?””
“I don't know.””
“Then how do you know my mother was here?””
Eli stared at the floor.
Maya pulled the photograph from the wall.
The pin came loose with a soft scrape. Dust clung to the back of the paper, and a small strip of faded tape peeled away.
She turned it over.
There was nothing on the back.
Then she noticed the writing beneath the picture, nearly hidden by the torn edge.
Her fingers began to tremble.
The handwriting was thin and slightly uneven.
*MAYA — AGE 5*
Below it was a date.
Maya recognized the year immediately.
It was the year her mother had told her they moved into their current house.
“That's me,” she whispered.
Eli nodded.
“I know.””
Maya looked at him.
“How?””
He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
She held the photograph closer to her face.
The little girl smiled up at her from another time, unaware of the questions that would follow her into the future.
Maya tried to remember being five.
She remembered a pink birthday cake. A balloon shaped like a star. Her mother kneeling to tie her shoes before a family outing.
She remembered her father's laugh, although he rarely appeared in the stories her mother told now.
But she didn't remember this fence.
She didn't remember this house.
And she certainly didn't remember meeting Eli.
“Why would my mother leave my picture here?”” Maya asked.
Eli's eyes shone.
“I don't know.””
“Did she give it to you?””
He looked at Nia and Jordan.
The girl pressed her lips together. Jordan lowered his head.
Maya took another step toward Eli.
“Please tell me the truth.””
He seemed to struggle with something inside himself.
Then he spoke.
“Your mother left it here.””
Maya stared at him.
“When?””
Eli shook his head.
“I can't tell you that.””
“Why?””
“Because she told me not to.””
“Not to tell me when she left it?””
“Not to tell you anything until you found it yourself.””
Maya felt the floor shift beneath her feet.
“Found it myself?””
Eli nodded.
“She said if you ever came here and saw the picture, I should tell you that much. Nothing else.””
Maya looked down at the photograph again.
Her mother had anticipated this moment.
Somehow, she had known Maya might one day stand inside this abandoned house, holding a picture of herself at five years old.
But why?
And why had Eli been waiting?
“Does my mother know you're here?”” Maya asked.
Eli hesitated.
That hesitation frightened her more than any answer could have.
“I don't know,” he whispered.
Maya's eyes filled with tears.
“Is she in trouble?””
“No!””
The answer came so quickly that Maya jumped.
Eli stepped toward her, his hands raised.
“I don't know where she is. I don't know what happened after she left. I swear.””
“Then why did you say she told you I might come?””
“Because she did!””
His voice cracked.
For the first time, Maya saw tears spill down his cheeks.
He wiped them away angrily.
“I've tried to do what she asked. I've tried to keep this place safe. I've tried to look after them.””
He glanced at Nia and Jordan.
“I don't know what else I'm supposed to do.””
Maya looked at the two younger children.
They were watching Eli with the frightened expressions of children who had learned that adults could disappear and promises could break.
She wanted to ask a hundred questions.
Instead, she held the photograph against her chest.
“I need to talk to my mom.””
Eli nodded.
“I know.””
“Today.””
“I know.””
“Can you tell me where she went?””
His face crumpled again.
“I wish I could.””
Maya turned toward the door, clutching the photograph so tightly that its edges bent beneath her fingers.
She needed answers. She needed her mother. She needed someone to explain why a boy she had never met was protecting a picture of her childhood.
Then she heard Nia's small voice behind her.
“Maya?””
She turned.
The girl had risen from the cardboard box. Her hands were clasped together, and her eyes were wet.
“Before you go,” Nia whispered, “can you promise not to make Eli leave?””
Maya looked at Eli.
He stood beside the cracked wall, shoulders hunched, watching her as if her next words might destroy the only home the children had left.
Maya looked down at her photograph one last time.
Then she raised her eyes to Eli.
“I won't make you leave,” she said softly.
Eli closed his eyes in relief.
But as Maya stepped onto the porch, she noticed something written along the bottom edge of the photograph that she hadn't seen before.
A tiny line of handwriting, partly covered by her thumb.
She moved her hand.
The words became clear.
*“If Maya comes back, tell her the truth.””*
Maya turned the photograph over, searching for a signature.
There was one.
Her mother's name.
And beside it was a date from just three months ago.
Maya's breath caught.
Her mother hadn't left this photograph years ago.
Someone had brought it here recently.
Someone who knew Maya might come.
She spun toward Eli.
“Who was here three months ago?””
Eli's face went completely pale.
Nia grabbed Jordan's hand.
And from somewhere deeper inside the abandoned house, a floorboard creaked.
Eli looked past Maya toward the darkened hallway, his expression suddenly terrified.
“Don't move,” he whispered.
May you like
Then a voice from inside the house called out one name.
“Maya?””
