Detective Ward reached back into the folder.
Emily’s mother sat straighter.
The detective placed a second photograph beside the first.
The air left Emily’s lungs before she even understood why.
It showed a woman standing outside the wedding venue, half-hidden near the valet stand, watching Nathan and Emily walk toward the car.
Her dress was dark.
Her hands were clasped in front of her.
Behind her, one small American flag hung beside the reception hall entrance, wet from the storm.
The photograph was grainy.
But the face was clear enough.
Clear enough that Emily’s mother stopped breathing.
Clear enough that Detective Ward touched the edge of the picture and said, very quietly, “Emily, I need you to look at her face before I say the name.”
Emily did look.
She looked until the woman in the photograph stopped being only a shape in the rain.
She looked until the posture became familiar.
