“I’d like to see them, if that’s okay.”
Chloe opened it carefully.
One by one, she showed Amelia the drawings, the stone, the list, the photograph of Rachel, and the folded postcard from Gavin.
Amelia held the postcard gently.
When you’re scared, tell the truth out loud. It gets smaller that way.
“Your dad wrote this?”
Chloe nodded. “Before.”
Amelia turned it over to look at the front image again.
Gavin and Chloe on the porch with the fishing pole.
She smiled sadly. “This is beautiful.”
Then something caught her attention.
In the background of the photo, blurred but visible through the porch window, stood a man.
Not clearly. Not enough for a stranger to notice. But enough for someone who had spent days staring at one face in an old cabin photograph.
Amelia brought the postcard closer.
“Chloe,” she said carefully, “where was this picture taken?”
