So, I can only imagine how judgy their frozen eyes would be after not only seeing their descendent actually get railed this time, but by her stalker no less. Thank god I took those down. “Is there anything written on the back?” Daya asks, flipping over a few photos herself to look. I flip over mine and see a date written. January &", 1944. Several months before Gigi had started writing about her stalker. In the picture is Gigi, smiling brightly up at the camera, her hair pinned into the type of curls you only saw in the 40s. Next to her, the unfamiliar man has an arm wrapped loosely around her, a slight smirk on his face. Something about him seems familiar, but I can’t put my finger on it. “No names on this one," I observe, flipping over a few more pictures. All with dates but none that reveal the identity of the man. We spread the photos out and arrange them in chronological order. The last picture is two weeks before her death. Gigi seems to be curled in on herself, hunched and small as she holds a glass of wine. Her smile is strained, while the mystery man stands next to her, looking down at her with a pinched brow and a frown. At this point, she was already in fear for her life. But from the man in the pictures, or someone else? Next, I pick up the weathered letter. It’s addressed to Gigi. My Genevieve, It pains me to write this letter. I sit here and I mourn. For what could have been. For what could still be but yet you refuse to see. I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you, Genevieve. I’ve loved you though you have married another. And now that I know you have given yourself to a different man—a man that not me, my love still persists. I’ve waited so long for you already, and now yet another has come between us. Has stopped me from taking you as mine. Why do you insist on doing this to me? To us? It plagues me. Keeps me from sleeping at night. The only thing I can think of doing is cutting you from my life to end this misery. For good. Sincerely, Your true love