Page 120 of Lease to Love

"Yes."

"I'm Rayna. Ms. Langston's caretaker. She's finishing breakfast in the garden." She stepped aside. "Come on in. I'll take you back."

"Thank you."

The inside of the brownstone smelled faintly of coffee, lemon oil, and something floral I couldn’t identify. The foyer walls were painted a deep green, the black-and-white marble beneath my shoes gleaming beneath the morning light, and photographs covered nearly every available inch of wall.

They started in black and white near the front door and gradually became color as we moved deeper into the house.

History.

People.

A neighborhood captured one photograph at a time.

Rayna stopped near a set of French doors.

"Let me clear the table and make sure she's ready. You can wait here."

She disappeared outside.

I looked around, saw a handful of familiar faces in the photos on the wall, before my eyes landed on the sideboard just to the left of the French Doors.

And I stopped breathing.

Pictures. Of Summer.

She couldn't have been more than five, standing beside another little girl who looked so much like her they could've been twins if the freckles hadn’t given her away. Matching smiles. Matching Redskins jerseys, before they became the Commanders.

Autumn.

I knew immediately.

Another photograph showed them dressed like little old women playing dress-up in what looked like the living room of this very house, Summer wearing an oversized fur coat and pink sunglasses while Autumn had on a feather boa, red heels, and enough attitude to fill the room.

I smiled.

Then I saw the prom picture.

I knew the dresses were Summer’s before I finished looking at them. The colors, the construction, the way each one seemed to understand the body it was built for — that wasn't something you bought, that was something you already knew.

Summer’s was violet.

Deep, dramatic violet with gold embroidery and an off-the-shoulder neckline that looked like it had been designed specifically to make an entrance.

Autumn wore white and black, structured and elegant.

They were beautiful.

They looked invincible.

Summer was laughing at something, her whole face open and bright. Autumn was watching her with the quiet smile of someone who already knew exactly what kind of women the two of them would become.

There was a graduation photo of them beside it, side by side in their gowns, Autumn with her valedictorian stole draped over her shoulders, holding their diplomas with pink and purple graduation caps that I assumed Summer made as well.

Summer’s read, “If lost, return to the valedictorian.”

Autumn’s, “I’m the valedictorian.”