OUT OF HIS FRAME

At the start of graduation season, my boyfriend took more than two hundred photos of Madison Vale.

Chase Whitman was president of Westbridge University’s photography club. He knew how to find flattering light and how to coax people out of stiff smiles.

Madison stood beneath the maples outside the library in a white dress, her graduation cap tucked under one arm.

“Am I taking up too much of your time?” she asked.

Chase checked the last few shots and smiled. “You make my job easy.”

When it was finally my turn, he barely looked at me.

“Stand by the tree.”