Eli found the photo by accident.
It slipped out of an old notebook while he was digging through his backpack, landing facedown on the floor. He almost ignored it—until he noticed how worn the edges were. Not ripped. Rubbed smooth, like it had been handled too many times.
He picked it up.
The picture showed a group of kids standing in front of the school gates, all grinning awkwardly at the camera. Eli recognized himself immediately, younger, arm slung around Jonah's shoulder.
But there was someone else.
A boy standing just to Eli's left, half-leaning into the frame. Dark hair. Crooked smile. His expression felt familiar in a way that made Eli's chest ache.
"Who are you?" Eli whispered.
The longer he stared, the clearer it became: this wasn't a stranger.
They had been friends.
At school the next day, Eli cornered Jonah outside the lockers and shoved the photo under his nose.
"Do you remember him?"
Jonah squinted. "Remember who?"
"The guy right there."
Jonah's forehead creased. "Dude… that's just you and me."
Eli's pulse spiked. "There are three people in that picture."
Jonah handed it back slowly, unease replacing his usual grin. "Eli, I swear—there are only two."
Eli tried teachers. The office. Even the yearbook archive again.
Nothing.
No attendance record. No name. No blurred photo. It was like the boy had never existed anywhere except in Eli's hands.
That afternoon, Eli noticed something new carved into the underside of his desk.
Fresh.
Shallow, like a warning made in a hurry.
I WAS HERE TOO
Eli swallowed hard.
The city wasn't just forgetting places.
It was unlearning people.
And someone—someone erased—was trying desperately not to disappear completely.