Anthony caught himself watching Vivian again, comparing her movements to one faded childhood memory. He shook his head in anger, trying to clear his thoughts. Photographs lay scattered across the table. Already, Anthony knew he’d said to much. The girl peppered him with questions on a daily basis. Questions he refused to answer. Every day found him more surly, and Vivian had commented recently on his rudeness.
Pushing aside another image of his great-grandmother with her twin sister, Anthony wrapped his arms around himself. He’d never known her name. After she died, the family never spoke of her again. All he knew was that her body hadn’t ever been found. Anthony had found the diary and knew the truth, though.
He just had to make sure Vivian never found out.