*The file of past 2*

Alecia flipped through the stack, her fingers moving faster, each photo making her breath tighten in her chest.

One. Two. Three.

Her lips parted slightly, disbelief bleeding into the rise of anger bubbling in her throat.

Four. Five. Six.

Her grip on the last two photos trembled.

Seven. Eight.

The final picture was no different from the others. The same face, the same delicate features, the same soft expressions but different styles.

Valentina.

Alecia’s stomach ...