Chapter 3. Hints of the Trouble

Evelyn

“I can’t believe it’s him,” I chuckled softly as I looked at the picture. “He doesn’t look fifteen at all. Even his height was… too small.”

“You see it too, right?” Rosaline flipped to the next page of the album, her smile never fading. “Here, see, this was when he won his first basketball trophy. Look at the smile on his face, così adorabile.”

“Aww… Jacob was such a baby,” I mused, unable to hide my smile.

“Don’t ‘aww’ me,” he groaned, making an attempt to snatch the album, but Enzo stopped him as he plopped down beside him on the couch.

“Why so frustrated, my boy?” Enzo laughed, handing him a glass of wine, and offering one to me as well. “Evelyn deserves to see your childhood pictures, non è vero?” (Translation: Isn’t that true?)

“That’s not childhood, Dad,” he scowled, almost trying to hide his embarrassment. “That’s a deformed teenage period! Totally screwed up.”

“Hey, you looked cute,” I spoke up. “I admit your height was