Chapter 32

But that brief flash of surprise—Elliot definitely didn't miss it. "You know me?" Maxwell shook his head. "Nope, don't know you." Of course, he wasn't about to tell Elliot that he had seen his face in a photo before. That was years ago. Back when he was a med student following his mentor to visit Charisse every day. She'd sit with that same photo in hand, staring at it until her eyes welled up. She'd fall asleep with it tucked under her pillow, even mumble in her sleep. The guy in the photo? Stupidly handsome. Maxwell never asked who he was, but c'mon—anyone with half a brain could guess. Only people going through a heartbreak cried like that. And then, for some reason, Maxwell recalled that image of a frail girl who looked like she had no blood left in her, whispering with such fear, "Did he make it out okay?" Now, looking at Elliot, he couldn't help but wonder—was she talking about this man? And just like that, Maxwell's opinion of the ex got even worse. Elliot wasn't blind to the te