Olivia’s POV
The back wall holds many tables with several brochures, framed documents and pledges of money people have made just this evening. I’m too confused to admit it to myself, Gabriel leading me down the lengthy tables full of information about my charity as if I had been the one to set these up; but I haven’t.
I stop near the center of the onslaught of information, seeing a single photo framed and propped upright in all of its nostalgic glory. It’s a framed photo of Reese and myself, my childhood features so cheerful, so innocent, before my brother and I faced our first hardship together in the death of our parents.
“How did you find this picture?” I ask, choking back a sob, my brother’s cheery grin so cherubic and innocent that it physically hurts my wo
