Pictures of the Past

Charlotte was able to relax the next evening. She felt more at peace now that she had a concrete plan. She would go to the ball with Troy, pickpocket him at the end of the evening, and then collect her reward from Racetrack. One unpleasant thought was that she would have to tear the room apart, and she wouldn't have much time to do so.

Charlotte smiled as she looked at her train ticket. She could not wait to leave this place and be on her way to her dream. Charlotte began organizing, putting everything she wouldn't need at the bottom of her suitcase. As she lifted one of her many filled journals, a small photo fluttered to the floor. Charlotte picked it up and saw it was the picture of Race's family. Of the real Charlotte's family. She sighed. Charlotte had been such a dear friend to her.

Paper-clipped behind it was another photo. Charlotte looked at the picture now beginning to turn yellow. It was of a young man with dark hair and sharp piercing gray eyes. His strong square jaw was immistakable, and memories began to flood back. He was Joseph Donaldson, the son of a factory owner.

She remembered clearly now. She had spent a winter there once. He had caught her out. Seen her digging through the top drawer in his room. She had liked him. She honestly had. But he would not see her when she tried to explain herself and make amends.

"Oh, Joseph," she sighed. "You were such a dear friend. If only you hadn't overreacted."

She shuddered when she thought of the persecution he had put her under. He called the police on her, forcing her to flee the whole state. She dropped the pictures into the wastebasket as if she had been burned.

Heart pounding wildly inside of her, Charlotte closed her eyes against the painful memories. Crumbling onto her bed, she wept bitterly for Joseph…for Spot.