Susan sat across from her husband, Mark, in their quiet suburban home, the scent of roast chicken and garlic mashed potatoes filling the air. The TV droned on in the background, the evening news recounting the mundane events of the day. She poked at her food, her thoughts wandering to the conference she had attended the week before. Bradley McAllister. High school Bradley McAllister. The Bradley McAllister who had once be...

"You've got to be kidding me," Susan murmured under her breath, staring at the name tag of the man in the hotel lobby. It read 'Bradley McAllister'. High school Bradley McAllister. The Bradley McAllister who had once snuck a peek down her shirt during algebra. She felt a strange mix of embarrassment and amusement wash over her. He looked so different, yet so much the same. The tall, lanky boy with a mischievous smirk had...