Our TG Caption

A sudden thought strikes you, a desperate gamble. "Ben," you say, your voice barely above a whisper, "does Sarah have your old yearbook? From high school?"
Ben looks at you, confusion etched on his teenage face. "Yeah, probably. It's somewhere in the attic."
"Okay," you say, your mind racing. "Here's what we do. Alexa, you still look like a kid, right? Maybe you can go to the door, say you're lost or something, and ask Sarah if she knows where the nearest library is. While she's distracted, Ben and I can try to sneak around to the back. If we can find a way into the garage or somewhere we can look for that yearbook..."
Ben's eyes widen slightly, a glimmer of hope amidst the despair. "And then what? Show her the yearbook? Hope she believes it's me?"
"It's a long shot," you admit, "but it's something. It's proof that you were once this age. Maybe seeing it will jog her memory, make her more open to believing something unbelievable."
Alexa nods, her earlier playful energy replaced by a serious focus. "Okay, I can do that. I'll act all innocent and lost."
The plan is risky, full of holes, but it's the only lead you have. You instruct Alexa to walk up to the front door with a hesitant demeanor, while you and Ben carefully make your way around the side of the house, sticking close to the hedges for cover.
Your heart pounds in your chest as you creep through the backyard. Ben's familiar garden, now seen from the perspective of your smaller teenage frame, feels different. You reach the garage door, trying the handle. It's locked. You peer through the dusty windows, trying to see if there's another way in, or if the yearbook might be stored out here. It's mostly filled with gardening tools, bikes, and storage bins. No yearbook in sight.
Just as you're about to try the back door of the house, you hear Alexa's voice from the front. "Excuse me, ma'am? I think I'm lost. Do you know where the public library is?"
You hold your breath, hoping Sarah is distracted enough. You quickly try the back door handle. Locked as well. Frustration mounts. This is proving to be even harder than you thought.
Suddenly, you remember something Ben had mentioned years ago – a spare key hidden under a loose brick near the back porch. You scan the porch, your eyes landing on a slightly dislodged brick near a potted plant. With trembling fingers, you pry it loose. There it is – a small, tarnished key.
You quickly unlock the back door and slip inside, Ben close behind you. The house feels eerily familiar yet foreign in your teenage body. You move through the quiet kitchen, trying to remember the layout. "Ben, where's the attic access?"
Ben points towards a pull-down ladder hidden in the hallway ceiling. You pull it down gently, trying to avoid making any noise. The musty smell of the attic wafts down as you climb the rickety ladder, Ben following closely.
The attic is dark and cluttered, filled with forgotten memories stored in dusty boxes. You pull out your phone, using its flashlight to scan the contents. Christmas decorations, old furniture, baby clothes... and then, you spot it – a box labeled "High School Stuff."
Your heart leaps with a mixture of hope and anxiety. You pull out the yearbook. It's worn and faded, the cover depicting smiling teenage faces from a lifetime ago. You flip through the pages, finding Ben's younger self, a goofy grin on his face, surrounded by classmates you vaguely remember.
Just as you find a clear photo of teenage Ben, you hear footsteps downstairs. Sarah's voice calls out, "Alexa? Are you still there? Do you need help finding your way?"
Panic sets in. You need to get out of here, and Ben needs to show Sarah this yearbook. But how can you explain your presence in her attic?
"Quick," you whisper to Ben, tearing out the page with his photo. "We need to get out of here now!"
You carefully fold the page and shove it into your pocket as you both scramble back down the attic ladder, trying to be as quiet as possible. You reach the kitchen just as Sarah's footsteps approach the hallway.
You grab Ben's arm. "Out the back! Now!"
You slip out the back door just as Sarah enters the kitchen, a look of concern on her face. You and Ben melt back into the cover of the bushes, your hearts pounding in unison.
Alexa is still talking to Sarah at the front door, smoothly explaining that she thinks she might have gotten turned around a few blocks back. Sarah seems genuinely concerned and offers her a glass of water.
From your hiding spot, you watch the interaction, a desperate plan forming in your mind. You need to get that yearbook page to Sarah, somehow convince her that the teenage boy hiding in her bushes is her husband. It feels like an impossible task, but you can't give up. Ben's future, your future, might depend on it.