Chapter One - Annabeth, My Love

It all started when my mother told me to clean the spare room at the top of the house out. It was, she said, too dusty up there, and I needed to take up a cardboard box and fill it with stuff to give away.

I couldn't really argue (she does, after all, have the power to ground me) so I took a box and went into the room, which is pretty much filled with other boxes, and started going through them. Old baby clothes, which I put into another box so Mom can give them to my cousin when she has her baby, old toys, books, clothes...everything we stuff in the spare room, pretty much.

Right at the back was this massive box filled with photo albums. I stopped sorting and sat down, picking one out at random and expecting to see a childhood photo or something as I opened the pages.
But I didn't at all recognise the woman in the first picture. 

I stared at it, wondering if she could be a great-grandparent, but I doubted it. I didn't even recognise the house behind her.

It was weird.

I looked at the next photo, but it was of the same woman and a man, so close that they were obviously together. The look in their eyes was tender, and it made me smile slightly.

Turning the page, I found another picture of them in that garden, tending to boxes of plants. I wondered who had taken the pictures - one of the family, maybe? A friend? It had to be someone close to them.

Under that, a candid shot of the woman looking out across the garden. She really was very beautiful, in that sort of pale blonde way.

The right hand page had a more intimate photo, taken presumably by the man. The woman in pyjamas, late at night.

And then a picture of a lit candle.

I went back to the front page, and slid the first photograph out of its cover, noticing something written on the back.

Annabeth, my love.

I stared at the photo. I didn't know any Annies, Beths, or full Annabeths in our family. Who on earth was this woman? I tried to think of what I knew of her.

Happily married, with a husband, in a beautiful house. Had a garden, and a candle. Was beautiful and happy.

Not exactly groundbreaking stuff. I put the photo back in place in the album, and was about to flip back to the candle photo when I heard my mom coming up the stairs. For some reason, I feared getting caught, and stuffed the album in the baby clothes box, to look at later.

"Honey? You done sorting?"

"Yes, Mom!" My voice came out in a guilty squeak, but Mom just picked up the box and smiled gratefully, which made me feel even worse.

"Don't worry, we'll have this all sorted out before you can say boo! It'll be nice when it's all done." She looked around, and I nodded quickly, standing in front of the baby clothes box as she carried it out of the room and started to head downstairs.

Oh, gulp. Only one thing to do now. I picked up the photo album, and stuffed it up my shirt, heading off to my room as soon as she was all the way downstairs. Quickly, I put it under my pillow, and rushed downstairs.

I'd look at it later, for sure.