After they’d gone, I went straight up to Maddy’s room. Her laptop was on the floor of her closet. I plugged it in, powered it up, and entered the only password of hers that I knew. At least when it came to passwords, my daughter was predictable. Her desktop sprang to life with its rows of folders lined up on a cresting wave. Like me, Maddy preferred to have everything out where she could see it. I scanned the titles and opened the one called “Animation.” Inside were multiple files. I chose the one called “final final final” and barely paused before clicking on the play arrow.

Maddy’s eyes were level and calm, her lips bunched in a half smile. I had not seen this image since the day of the march. I could feel her slight weight against me. Impossible to move or look away or press stop. Applause had given the film a triumphant close. Now it unrolled in eerie silence until the land was shorn of life and the stone face below had crumbled pits for eyes. Watching it had hardly been bearable then, and it was hardly bearable now, seated alone in her empty bedroom. Her knowingness and candor and flair cut straight to the part of me that would never recover.

Before I could summon the energy to press pause, the image began to move. Was there more? There was more. The ruined face slowly smoothed itself into flesh and skin. The knobs of her eyelids opened. Jolt to the heart. Maddy was looking straight at me. Mama! Lips began to quiver. Help me! Eyes flared. Don’t mess with me! Brows gathered. All is lost! It took very little for supplication to turn to defiance and defiance to despair. At the eyes and mouth, where most of the changes took place, the pencil gradually tore through the paper until all the features vanished and there was only an empty shape where she had been.

Enough! I should not be watching this. I should turn it off, refuse to look. But I was hungry for more. In front of me the image was changing again and all I wanted was to see what came next.

Marks appeared and began to circle the blankness in search of a worthwhile form. Slowly, sleepily, then faster and with greater purpose, the marks flew to their places, joining into lines and shadows, while the edges bulged to make way for a new kind of head. I caught my breath. I knew by heart those slits of eyes and that particular toothless laugh. “Was that really me?” Maddy would say, holding the old photograph like a holy relic in her hand. “I know it’s me, but deep down I can’t believe it.”