Page 58 of I Hope This Finds You Well

“Oh my god. Oh... my god.Cliff!This is everything. I wanted togo on so bad, but I didn’t have a sibling. I knew all the trivia. Did you win?”

His grin is all I need. “We should get back to the—”

“What did you pick? For your prize?” I hold the frame like its solid gold. It’s so niche and incredible. It’s unbelievable I didn’t see it before.

“The Nerf gun.” His tone is even, but I can tell he’s glowing.

I drop the frame back onto the sill and put my face in my hands. “Oh, Clifford. You were one of the chosen few that got to scale the winners’ toy mountain, and you’re telling me on this day, the day of my anti-harassment training, that you didn’t choose the moon boots? They werethe onlychoice.”

He shakes his head. “The moon boots weren’t as good in person. I put tons of thought into my choice and tested everything for way longer than the producers wanted. They weren’t used to that.”

I detect a trace of hollowness in his tone. My chest twists as I imagine the boy in the picture carefully investigating the toy mountain, surrounded by frustrated men in suits trying to rush him.

Then I realize I’ve lost myself staring at adult Cliff with the same brown eyes. I clear my throat and say, “Cliff, I’m about to lose my shit all over the place right here. This is all so, soooocool.”

He grins shyly. “If I’d known how heart eyes you’d go, I’d have said something earlier.”

We both jolt at his words. His temples redden as a buzz rushes across my skin.

“Sorry—that wasn’t what I... I meant as a great icebreaker. Nobody else remembers that show.” He tilts his head. “What are you grinning about? Wait, let me guess. You’re picturing young HR me making sure the producers form a cohesive team.”

I stifle a grin and nod.

“That’s fine. I’m picturing young Jolene walking around a playground rolling her eyes. And when did you master the fine art of sarcasm—high school? I’m imagining you stab-typing witty texts on your BlackBerry by the lockers.”

My stomach drops. “No. I was... quiet in high school.”

He raises a teasing eyebrow. “Really? That’s hard to imagine. Did you go to high school around here?”

I shake my head on impulse. “No,” I say, sharper than I intend.

There’s no way I’m naming the town. Those sorts of details can stack up fast. If he looks up my high school, the article about Ellie’s death always shows up. He’ll wonder if I knew her...

I return to my seat and curl a little deeper into the chair.

Cliff’s eyes flash with confusion, and the energy in the room deflates. “Sorry,” he says haltingly. “I didn’t mean to, like...”

I should’ve lied like a normal person. Being weird about it just makes people want to ask more questions. So I quickly paste my smile back on and say, “If you really want to know, in high school I had questionable fashion, read epic fantasy and paranormal romance like it was my job, and yes, I had a BlackBerry—but I used it for some snake game only.”

He laughs. “Now that sounds like you.” But there’s still some tension creasing at the corners of his eyes. How can he read me so well, so often?

My eyes dart again to the maroon folder sitting on his desk, and I think of that little note again:help her feel safe.

I hear myself say, “I don’t really like who I was back then.”

I instantly regret my words. It’s far too close to the bone. But Cliff nods and leans an inch closer across the desk. “Well, I don’t know what you were like then—aside from that you grew up dreaming of working at Supershops, of course—but the Jolene of now is pretty great.”

His words are like a warm blanket. It’s not much, but it still feels like a small piece of the weight on my shoulders has been lifted.

“Want to get back to it?” he offers. “After we finish, I can draw out theKidstreetstudio set for you. It was way different from how it looked on TV.”

“That would be lovely.”

We finish the presentation without further interruption, and Cliff brings his A game to the performance. I can’t help being charmed by his commitment.

But the whole time one thought presses the back of my mind:If only we didn’t have matching maroon folders.

When I return to my workstation, a new email already sits in my inbox.