The next image was of a young girl grinning with the sun shining on her face. Immediately, she recognized the dark eyes and the wide smile. “That’s Ruth.”

In Ivy’s mind, Ruth had always been old. She’d rarely done anything beyond caring for her hotel and then Ivy’s mother and later Ivy.

Other than the physical features, there were no hints of the woman Ruth would become. This girl looked as if everything was exciting and work was the last thing on her mind. Ivy guessed Ruth was about twelve in the picture, which would put this circa 1950.

The next picture captured the ocean, and judging by the vantage point, it had been taken from the cottage she now owned. The centerpiece of the picture was the very shipwreck that had rematerialized yesterday.

“That ship’s resurfaced again, hasn’t it?” Bob said.

“It has. And it’s still there as of this morning. Pete Manchester is coming by soon to see it. I hear he’s a bit of an expert.”

“He is. Hopefully, he’ll bring some of his photos of the wreck. One dates back to 1870, the year the vessel came ashore.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

“Watch out for the ghosts and goblins,” Bob said with a grin. “They’ll be stirring up trouble.”

“Let’s hope they give me a pass,” she said as she thumbed through more pictures of the Seaside Resort and the people vacationing there. “How much do I owe you?”

“Not a thing,” he said.

“You sure?”

“Ruth’s granddaughter will never owe me a dime.” He slid her pictures into a white plastic bag that read BOB’S SMALL APPLIANCE REPAIR.

“Thanks again.”

“You bet.”

In her car she was no closer to identifying the owner of the camera, but maybe Mr. Manchester would know. He could have been on scene the summer the pictures were taken.

When she arrived at the cottage, Dani’s car was in the driveway, and she and her father were staring up at the cottage. Mr. Manchester was tall with a thick shock of gray hair and shoulders that remained broad and straight.

“Ivy,” Dani said, grinning. She wore designer boots, boot-cut jeans, and a thick fur-lined leather jacket that hit her midwaist.

Again, Ivy’s tried-and-true gray sweats left her feeling lacking. “Dani.”

“You remember my dad, right?” Dani asked.

Ivy extended her hand. “Good to see you again, Mr. Manchester.” When she was leaving Ruth’s funeral, he’d shaken her hand, said something kind about Ruth. But all the people and their words had melted into an unrecognizable collage.

“Glad you’re back,” he said. “We’ve all missed you.”

“Nice to see Dani, you, the old place again.”

“The cottage hasn’t changed,” he said. “A rarity these days.”

But everything else had. “Here to see the wreck?”