Grace.
Leaving a medical appointment.
Taken from across the street.
Another photograph.
Grace getting into my car.
Another.
Grace in our garden.
Another.
Grace standing beside me at Sofia’s grave.
I stopped breathing.
“How long?”
“At least six months.”
“Who sent these?”
“We don’t know.”
“Then how did you get them?”
“Because the person watching Grace sent them to someone who made a mistake.”
She swiped again.
A short line of text appeared beneath the final photograph.
HER TWELFTH BIRTHDAY CHANGES EVERYTHING.
Grace’s birthday had been five weeks ago.
I looked at Evelyn.
“What changes?”
“That is what I’ve been trying to find out.”