Downstairs, Douglas had prepared a small tray of nuts, olives, and potato chips. “It’s not much. Something to munch on while we enjoy a beer.” He sat in a faded armchair beside the couch where Brad was sitting. “Your friends are nice.”
“Thanks. They liked you, too.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.
“Really? I was a bit quiet. Still not comfortable meeting new people.”
Brad shook his head. “No, they thought you were nice. Don’t be so paranoid.”
Douglas swallowed another mouthful of beer, then looked around the room. He seemed anxious. “Hey, can I show some photos? Don’t worry, there’s not too many.”
Brad barely had time to answer before Douglas was pulling open the bottom drawer of a glass cabinet straight out of the seventies. The photo album looked brand new, but when he opened the cover, so
